The Sanctuary
by Hoguie
Summary: Little Harry Potter vanished from the world on that cold November night. But now, as the long thought dead savior comes to Hogwarts, what will happen when he reveals secrets lost with their owners over 1000 years ago and claims what is rightfully his? UP FOR ADOPTION, SEE PROFILE FOR DETAILS
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I claim ownership of anything that I write about which is previously claimed by J.K. Rowling. I am writing this piece of fiction solely for the purpose of writing and am gaining nothing from this in the way of compensation.**

* * *

Albus Dumbledore held his head in his hands as he thought over the past few years, and how they revolved around a certain child that had not been seen in a nearly a decade.

When he had placed the little Potter upon his Aunt's step that November night, he had done so under the belief that the child would grow up safe, if not comfortable, under the ancient and esoteric protections wrought by Lily Potter.

How wrong he had been.

He gazed tiredly around his office, filled with trinkets and books, portraits of Headmasters past, yet even when his eyes landed on the well known but still awe inspiring sight of his beloved familiar, he found no comfort in the warmth of their shared bond.

In the morning after the boy had been placed with his last, maternal blood relations did he come back to his office to find that the instruments, to which he had attuned the Blood Magic based wards, were not working at all. His mind screamed only one conclusion to this dilemma.

Harry Potter had not entered Number 4, Privet Drive.

From there on his life had become so complicated, he silently mourned, as he had immediately left to search the area with Minerva and Alastor and had come up with nothing. Yet, there were no traces of magic dissimilar to his own, Harry's, Minerva's, or Hagrid's. It had caused him no small amount of headaches that his calming draught laced lemon drops couldn't fix.

He had called together the Order so that they could begin a search mission, but there were no links or leads to be found in any of the common places, or uncommon for that matter, as Harry Potter seemed to have vanished into thin air! It was maddening.

A month after the disappearance, he had to admit defeat and declare to the Ministry that the Boy-Who-Lived, that wretched moniker, had gone missing.

Outrage

There had been mobs in the streets, witches weeping and moaning their savior's disappearance, howlers constantly assaulting the ministry and his office to the point that he had to cast a mail redirection charm on himself specifically attuned to the magic of the fowl letters.

The loudest of those who decried him was none other than Minerva McGonagall herself, laying into him with her Scottish brogue to the point he had had to silence her, and he swore that as he had done so, her eyes had slit and her teeth had sharpened into a feline snarl. What a terrifying woman, he mused. He was sure Tom would have given up his status and self-made title just to get her away from him in that state.

As if summoned by his errant thoughts, said Scottish Dame came into the room, looking at him with the same professional aloofness that he had been subjected to since the incident those years ago.

"Ah Minerva, what can I do for you this fine morning? Would you care for tea or one of my newest cravings? It's called a peanut-butter cup and it is quite delicious if I do say so" he popped one into his mouth from an ornate dish, etched with runes for preservation to keep the contents fresh, made himself to forgo waste of his desired treats.

She pursed her lips in displeasure "No thank you Albus. I have come to inform you that Flamel's register has begun its scrying into the addresses of the students attending this September." She may have seemed her usual stern self, but she was anxious to find if Lily and James' little boy was still alive after all of these years, still hating herself for letting Albus convince her it was best to leave a toddler outside in the cold of Winter.

Albus' jovial expression turned serious, and his sparkling eyes seemed to dull with his mood "Yes, I believe it is the time of year when the letters are to be sent. Let us hope that we find good news waiting for us."

His mood lifted slightly "Well, my dear, shall we head to the chamber to see if we might find the mysterious location of young Mr. Potter?"

She nodded, and they both stood and headed to a door to the right of the main entrance of the Headmaster's office.

The small chamber held inside nothing aside from a marble pedestal, upon which sat a heavy tome of a great size. It was floating just above its resting place to show its activated state.

The weathered book was a thing of beauty, bound in an opalescent leather of unknown origin and covered in patterns of Celtic Knots, but its real magnificence came from the ancient and powerful enchantments layered into it during every part of its creation. It had been a gift to Albus from his former master, Nicolas Flamel, that had been enchanted by his wife Perenelle to use a powerful mind magic to pierce the thoughts of all who lived in Britain, before adding their name to itself if they showed signs of possessing magic. It is truly incredible in the fact that it can send its influence, using Hogwart's ambient magic, to cover the total of Britain, but it is ingenious in the fact that it can pierce any wards, for there exists no such thing to block the type of mind magic expelled by the book.

It was through this book that all muggleborns were discovered and identified, a fact that the Ministry was all too eager to cover up so as to keep itself looking omniscient when one is told about the Wizarding World for the first time.

Minerva carefully raised her wand, before maneuvering the tip in a figure-eight motion and mumbling an unknown incantation, causing the book to open to a page roughly in the middle. The two professors searched the pages and quickly found, to their immense relief and joy, the address of one Mr. H J Potter. Though that relief quickly turned into confusion upon reading said address.

 _ **Mr. H J Potter**_

 _ **The Gold Room**_

 _ **The Sanctuary, Scotland**_

Minerva turned to look at her employer with concern in her eyes "Do you have any idea where this may be, Albus? I have never seen the register list an address while giving us so little information"

Said man shook his head, while his forehead gained a prominent crease "No, I have never heard of such a place. I believe, though, that I shall attach a tracking charm to Mr. Potter's acceptance letter, so that we may be able to locate this residence and speak more directly with the young man."

She nodded her acceptance "Yes, I believe that we should both attend this meeting if at all possible. We have no idea who may be near the lad when the letter arrives, and it would be better to be prepared."

"An excellent idea Minerva! We shall then send the letter as soon as we have everything ready."

With that, the two began to prepare for the upcoming meeting.

* * *

In a sitting room, in a place none too far from the two anxious professors, sat a young man reading a text that was rather advanced for his age, while he gently stroked the head of his extremely content companion.

"So, the day you told me about is finally happening, isn't it?" the young man looked down at his mentor, adviser, and friend.

- _Yesss, it finally issss, my hatchling-_

* * *

The next morning, Harry Potter's birthday alternatively, dawned early as the two professors in-the-know met at the castle's gates, preparing for a meeting that held so many questions between them.

"I see that you are ready to leave, my dear. Just allow me to tie you into the charm, it should have arrived last night." She nodded and felt the magical thread latch onto her.

Albus nodded, satisfied "I believe Fawkes has agreed to take us to the place in which Mr. Potter resides, for I do not wish to appear using my own magic. Who knows what could happen when a wizard's magic interacts with the unknown protections surrounding the area?" But Minerva looked perplexed.

"Why did you not use Fawkes in the fist place, to locate the boy, Albus?" Albus sighed.

"Alas, I do not know that myself, but Fawkes could never find Harry's magic after he was misplaced. He can only track my magic on the letter." This worried both Albus and Minerva, for a phoenix to be unable to find someone whose magic it had felt before...?

They both turned when a flash of light and heat appeared above them, revealing Fawkes flapping his wings to hover and trilling a beautifully uplifting song. Both humans, feeling their spirits lighten and their mood improve, grasped a long, fiery tail-feather and were whisked away just as Fawkes had appeared.

When they both could see again, they noticed they had appeared in a moderate sized receiving room with a large and ornate, black marble fireplace, flecked with gold, roaring with the emerald fire of a connected floo. The room seemed to have no doors or windows, leading the room to feel like a highly elegant box. The floors were the same rich marble of the fireplace mantle, the walls partially covered in a white wainscoting, and the rest papered with a glittering, navy blue paper embossed with miniature versions of a family crest that both acknowledged to be foreign to them.

"Hmmm, I have seen receiving rooms such as this before in many of the older family man-" he was abruptly cut off by a pop that seemed to be amplified in the box-like room, startling the two and making them turn.

"Hello's madame and misters professors! I is Click, and I's welcomes you to the Sanctuary, Peverell Manor!" A small, squeaky voice of a house elf dressed in black, wizard-like robes bearing the crest from the walls was bowing to the point that its nose touched the floor.

Albus' mind screeched to a halt...Peverell Manor...Peverell

He felt faint, his heart beating erratically and his breath frozen in his chest. How long? How long had he and Gellert searched for any trace to the ancient family that was spoken of in a child's fairy tale, but so much more? He had searched for the Hallows in his youth, holding onto and seeing two in his age, hearing of and dreaming of that power, the power over _**Death**_ _itself._

He shook himself of those darkened places of his mind quickly, neither wishing nor willing to revisit to the hateful young man he had once been.

"Ah, thank you for your generous welcome, good sir" the little elf squeaked louder and tinted green on his cheeks, Minerva shot him an exasperated look to which he just smiled brightly back "We have come here to speak with Mr. Potter if he is available at the moment" his eyes sparkled brightly at the elf.

The elf looked highly uncomfortable at the gaze, yet answered firmly "Master Harrison be expecting yous, is why the nasty wards is not be hurting madame and misters"

The elf then stood straight, in a slightly uniform stance of attention before his arm swept towards the continuously burning floo flame.

"The Master be waiting for yous. Hes be on the other side."

The two professors said a small thanks to the elf-which was squeaked at-before it popped away and the two were left alone again. Both looked at each other for a long moment more to steel themselves before Minerva gracefully stepped into the flames and disappeared with a flare. Albus braced himself and used his occlumency barriers to stabilize his emotions, before he too stepped into the flames, leaving the room bare once more.

* * *

As he stepped out of the floo, Albus noticed Minerva gazing straight forward with a painfully tense posture and her wand gripped tightly in her hand. Alarmed, he was about to try to calm her and assess the situation when he heard a young, decidedly male voice call out to him, one that made him freeze in his tracks before a smile bloomed on his face and he side-stepped his colleague.

"Hello Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall. Welcome to my home."

What he saw made his blood freeze in his veins, occlumency crumbling like a cracked shell, and horror claw at his heart, terror gripping his throat. It couldn't be, not that, but it _was._

Standing not far from them was a young man with similarities to both Lily Evans and James Potter, yet so different it was startling. Black, inky hair falling in waves past his shoulders, curling at the end, green eyes so different from Lily's in a shade mimicking Chinese jade, not hidden behind James Potter's glasses, standing at a respectable height for one his age, smiling at them happily.

But that is not what turned him to stone where he stood.

No

That honor went to the absolutely _massive_ python curled on the floor behind the boy, its head and neck rising so that it could see over his shoulder. Piercing yellow eyes glared at he and Minerva wickedly, luminous just as the venomous green and shining brown color of its scales.

" _ **Nagini...**_ "

His wand was pointed at the infamous serpent faster than most could blink, much less react, with a curse micro-moments from leaving the tip. He would not let that demon harm another, much less the destroyer of her bonded master. Yet, before he could do anything, Harry-young, sweet, innocent, child-turns to the shadow crawling assassin and-...

smacks in on the nose

 _smacks it on the nose...Nagini...Voldemort's assassin..._

The incredulous feelings within him climb higher when the snake moves its face closer to Harry's and releases an almost whining hiss at the boy, to which the boy hisses right back.

He needs to sit down, as Minerva has already decided to do, because he is definitely too old for his heart to take much more of the shocks it has felt the past two days.

He and she watch in morbid fascination as the boy and snake have a bantering, hissing argument for a few moments before Harry turns to both of us and smiles sheepishly

"I'm sorry if she scared you, but Nagini was trying to pull a prank and has a terrible sense of humor" a loud, agitated hiss "which she will deny to her last breath"

* * *

After taking a moment to calm herself, she takes in Harry Potter and the snake with a critical eye used to catching the smallest of details to punish, she nods and stands before walking brusquely towards the the two.

"As for your earlier introduction Mr. Potter, thank you, though I must say that I was quite surprised seeing you in the first place, much less with You-Know-Who's familiar" she raised a questioning-incredulous,dry-eyebrow at the boy.

"Yeah, sorry professor. I guess I should have warned you before you came in." He smiled sheepishly and rubbed his hand through his hair in a manner so reminiscent to James Potter is struck her.

"Anyway, I guess I have a few things to explain to you. Ummm" he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth "would you like tea and biscuits?"

"Yes, I believe that would be appropriate" she sees the lost look on Albus' face and knows he has been mightily startled by the meeting so far. Tea would do good in bringing him back to focus. Especially for a conversation like this one is looking to turn out to be. She sighed

Harry snapped and the house-elf, Clink, from earlier appeared with a tea service laden with all the amenities and some biscuits and sandwiches. She takes hers as she prefers, and prepares Albus' for him before she sits next to him on an amethyst colored sofa.

This gives her the opportunity to take in the room she had entered earlier without having the chance to truly see it. The walls, gold she remembers from his address, are rich, textured paper decorated with violet swirling designs, both colors muted as to not blind the occupants. The carpet is thick and luxurious, spanning the entire floor of the spacious parlor. The fireplace looks very similar to the one through which she entered, though slightly more narrow.

She and Albus sat upon a couch that faced two similarly colored wing-back chairs, one in which Harry is sitting, the other the snake, and between the lounging pieces is a beautiful cast iron coffee stand with a glass top. Along the wall opposite the fireplace is a wooden buffet, painted black. It seems very classy, and screams wealth without it being gaudy.

By this point they have all sipped their tea, and she can clearly see Albus has gotten over his shock, ready to listen and question the young man many thought dead or kidnapped. Though that last one was a possibility still...

Harry cleared his throat, gaining both their attention "Well, I guess you would have questions about why I'm not at Aunt Petunia's, where I was, and how I got here."

They both made signs of agreement "Indeed Mr. Potter, why not start with the beginning"

He nodded "To make it clear and quick, Clink found me right after you and the large man left and brought me here. He felt my magic calling to him through the family bond he is bound through, and he decided he would take me here, to raise me away from the people he said felt 'icky and vile, nos good for Master Harrison, no sir'"

She blinked, not realizing the young elf she had seen was that old, but she felt slightly foolish for not thinking that any elves bound to the Potter family would feel the boy's magic. She completely agreed with his assessment of that family though, they are completely vile.

Albus hummed slightly, in a contemplative manner "So, my boy, the wonderful elf we met decided to raise you here, but did he do it alone? Did he have help from someone else?"

She raised an eyebrow, apparently he was digging to see if Harry was brought here with anyone else, or he as alone with the elf.

"No sir. The wards around the manor would only allow someone from the family and their elves inside. Plus, it would be a terrible idea for someone to try to break-in even if they were a really powerful and skilled curse breaker. They wouldn't make it to the house in the first place, there are more wards around the property and the creatures."

Creatures? The two shared a look before Minerva asked the question most prominently on their minds.

"Creatures, Mr. Potter? Whatever do you mean by that?" she would dread the answer, given his reaction.

He gained an excited spark in his pale eyes and a grin tore itself across his face "This place is called the Sanctuary for a reason professors. This house and the land around it have hundreds of magical creatures from every level on the X scale!"

She reared back as if struck and went so pale, it was like the her face had lost the ability to retain blood. Albus looked both horrified and fascinated, she scowled, the old man was a child at heart.

She cleared her throat and sipped her lukewarm tea in an attempt to remove the lump in it "From every level?! There are level five creatures here? Th-that cannot be safe!" She removed it, but behind it was a wellspring of shock.

The boy just grinned wider if it were possible "But that's the thing professor, it's perfectly safe for me or anyone who I invite with me on the grounds"

Albus took over when it seemed she was too incredulous to even dignify that with a response "My boy, why do you say it is perfectly safe when dealing with creatures and beings that could kill scores of fully-trained wizards by themselves?" He seemed genuinely concerned and that sobered the boy enough to give a firm answer.

"Let me tell you something about my family, professors. My greatest ancestor was Ignotus Peverell, the third brother of the three brothers of legend. When his two elder brothers died, he knew that he would have to have a child if he wanted to continue his family name, so he married a Spanish woman who was the last of her family name too, they had two children. The eldest took Ignotus' name and was named Godric, and the youngest took the mother's name, Gaunt, and was named Salazar. These two would change their names when they opened a school with two Norse witches who were tired of fighting and wanted to learn and teach more passive magic, not used to slaughter, Rowena who was Dagworth-Granger and Helga who was Smith."

They just sat and stared at the boy who claimed to know the origins of the founders, something lost to history, and similarly claimed to have descended from the Gaunt and Peverell families, two ancient lines that had died out over time. Yet, he continued on as if the non-answer was what he needed to begin his tale again.

"They changed their name to what they are known as now, but each had a unique talent from their bloodlines that they were born from. Salazar acquired the ability to speak the language of the snakes, Parseltongue, and Godric gained the the ability to manipulate the spirits through the Peverell ability of Necromancy, the other carrying the talent in their blood even if it wasn't active. Godric became a beast master, a creature tamer using his gifts to control the spirits of those he encountered. The Potter family showed up when the last of Godric's main line was under attack and changed his name to escape. Hogwarts motto comes from a time when someone was stupid enough to provoke Godric's first tamed beast, a Hungarian Horntail"

Finally, she began to regain the speech she lost through that fantastic and outlandish tale, gaining momentum as she spoke "Mr. Potter, I-I..I don't know what to say, but this is unbelievable! I, it..it would have been recorded somewhere or known by someone! It is just too outlandish!"

She was breathing heavily by the time she was finished, staring hard at the boy who looked far too calm for having heard her rant, though she would never use that word. Albus, silent, stared at the boy with a heavy look full of scrutiny and a small sense of...wonder? Surely he did not think that this was-

Mr. Potter continued again, slowly and with a melancholy in his voice that did not match one so young and vibrant moments ago. He lifted the hair of his fringe and showed us the scar he received on that tainted night.

Speaking softly "This isn't just a scar you know? I think I know what happened that night, because this is the rune Sowilō , the rune of power and the sun."

Both focused on him intently in that moment "I learned from Nagini that Voldemort was the last of Salazar's main line, but Salazar was younger than Godric. When he tried to kill me, the family magic reacted to the last in the younger line, trying to destroy the last of the older line, and the magic stole his power where the curse hit me, marking me with power, while the other lost his and was destroyed. That's why I can speak Parseltongue when my dad couldn't, 'cause he didn't have Salazar's portion of the family magic to activate it like I do."

When he finished, there was a dead silence in the room, the two staring at him, one in shock, one in dawning realization.

She focused on him, trying to find a reason that this was not real for reasons she did not know herself, clinging desperately to her last argument.

She looked at him, focusing her gaze on him totally "But, why? If what you say is true, then why did James not survive?" It may have sounded harsh, and cruel, but she was trying to make sense of something world-shattering, something she was woefully unprepared for.

Albus answered before he could, a light of realization and awe in his eyes that she had never seen before.

He spoke in a reverent whisper "James was not the last of the line...so the magic did not react to his death in the way that it did to young Harry"

The silence once again settled heavily upon the room, but Harry broke it as a way to shift away the slight awkwardness of it all.

He spoke again, startling the elder two "So you see, that's why I'm perfectly safe around the creatures here whether X or XXXXX, 'cause the two bloodlines are equal strength in me. I can control the creatures, and speak to some. They truly can't hurt me"

* * *

Albus Dumbledore stared at the boy thought lost, the boy who changed his perspective of the Wizarding World. For the first time he thought of the prophecy in a new light.

 _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...Born as the seventh month dies...to parents who have thrice defied him...and the Dark Lord shall mark him as his equal...but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...and either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives...the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...Born as the seventh month dies..._

* * *

 **A.N:** I have been reading FanFiction for a number of years, but I've always been too self-conscious to attempt to write anything myself. This is just a theme that I've never seen done in a similar fashion, so I hope you like what I've got so far. Please read and review what you think and have a wonderful day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I claim ownership of anything I write about which is previously claimed by J.K. Rowling. I am writing this piece of fiction solely for the purpose of writing and am gaining nothing from this in the way of compensation.**

 **A.N. Thank you to those who have decided to review, favorite, or follow this. It makes me unbelievably excited that anyone would read my story in the first place, much less like it.**

 **Now, for a question I was asked by a reviewer: Will there be slash? I am honestly unsure if this will continue to an age I consider appropriate for Harry to have a pairing (5th year for me), but if it does, I will post a poll letting you readers decide if it is or if it isn't..**

 **I apologize for not putting in the last chapter if this caused confusion, but - _Parseltongue-_**

* * *

Harry sighed tiredly, lounging across his bed. The meeting with the two professors hadn't gone the way he had wanted, but on the other hand, he was sure there would have been more of a problem, what with Nagini practically demanding she attend. Though, if he was honest with himself, seeing a man of Albus Dumbledore's caliber so thrown and dazed had been entirely too amusing.

He huffed, turning onto his stomach, and grabbed a book off of his nightstand that he had intended to finish earlier. He was extremely grateful for Nagini, despite his earlier grumbling, as he thumbed through the book on fifth year Ancient Runes. Ever since she came into his life when he was five years old, she had practically forced him to read and study ahead in any of the classes he may take in the future.

Apparently, she would not _deign_ to associate with someone who was not as intelligible as she thought herself, egotistical snake. She also wouldn't allow him, as the current Gaunt heir, to fall behind or be lesser than the master she followed last time in any way.

Said great snake was currently draping herself across his back in an attempt to soak up some of his body heat. - _You know, sssometimesss, I think you are more of a housssse cat than a highly venomousss, magical ssserpent-_

She didn't even bother to physically respond to the taunt, other than a languid flick of her tail. - _Your petty attemptssss to alleviate your boredom by inssstigating banter with me are laughable, hatchling. I taught you thossse methodssss-_

Harry, indignant, opened his mouth to argue, before realizing her game and letting it shut with a click of teeth. He settled on glaring over his shoulder at his smug familiar.

- _You are learning, hatchling. Thisss isss good, for you mussst be prepared for the other sssnakesss who followed the torn one, waiting to ssstrike at you in vengeance-_

Harry hummed in agreement, acknowledging her wisdom on the matter. She knew Voldemort's followers well, having seen them groveling at the monster's feet, so she knew how twisted and vicious they could be when they have a goal.

Though he often argued with her and acted as though he was put upon by her presence, he would be eternally grateful that she and he had met.

She had followed his scent to the Sanctuary when Voldemort had fallen, searching for her master in his familiar taste of his magic. While it had take her years, her persistence had paid off when Clink had found her circumventing the exterior wards. Clink sensed the python's breaking familiar bond and the similar feel it held to his master's magic, so in a fit of compassion, the elf had brought the weak creature to Harry in an attempt to ease its pain. When Nagini had gotten close to him, their magic had intertwined through the Gaunt family magic, restoring the bond to full strength between the two.

She had been fascinated by the nestling-her words-who had felled her former master, and they had grown to be very close over the years, much like a mother and her child. He rolled his eyes at that thought, Harry would never be allowed to go anywhere without her, the mother hen.

He nestled down to finish the book for the next few hours, enjoying the silence, before he decided he needed to do something physical. He gently relocated the slumbering snake into a more comfortable position before leaving his bedroom and heading towards the entrance to the grounds.

The grounds around the manor were sprawling and teeming with all manner of magical creatures and beings who had been tied to the main Peverell line over the years. The land was separated into quarters, each holding the habitat or environment in which different species were most comfortable being aided by the climate regulation charms tied into the rune scheme when the Sanctuary was built by Godric Peverell in the tenth century.

His memories of his younger years were filled with images of riding the Pegasi and Thestrals, which he could sadly say he sees from witnessing his mother's death, cuddling with the Unicorn foals when he needed the comfort after a nightmare, swimming with the Mer and the magical creatures within the lake, and flying on the back of Frigga, a particularly maternal Norwegian Ridgeback. He was sure he would miss them when he left to Hogwarts in a month, so he decided to spend the rest of his time free by interacting with every on of them.

* * *

The week before he was to board the Hogwarts Express, Harry decided he needed to go to the alley and buy his school supplies and robes, and one other reason that he was rather excited about. He had eaten his breakfast, cooked wonderfully by Clink, already and was almost bouncing with anticipation to leave. Apparently he really was bouncing because he could hear a heatedly-irritated hiss behind him in the same room he had met the professors, ready to floo away

- _Calm yourssself Hatchling! You must be collected before you interact with the ground dwellersss-_ Nagini was flicking her tongue out, agitated by the turbulent feel of his magic.

He shook his head and took a deep breath, repeating this action and raising his Occlumency shields in an attempt to gain control of himself before replying - _I appologize, but I ssshall finally be able to enter the family vaultsss and retrieve the ringsss-_

She released a huffing hiss - _I know that you have been anticipating thisss for many yearsss, but you mussst be patient. You mussst alwaysss-...-_

He interrupted - _act asss the ssserpent, hiding my true intentionsss and ssstriking when the oppurtunity is the bessst. I know, I know, but I am collected now, we can leave-_

She glared at him for his cheek, but acquiesced and draped herself over him to prepare for the daunting trip through the menace that was the floo, something she claimed to be beneath her and ridiculous, proving the superiority of snakes over humans with their idiotic, host of possibly fatal means of transportation. He snorted whenever _that_ was brought up, old arguments and such.

He brushed down his robes, tailored silver silk that flowed like water for the occasion, and patted down his hair, pulled back by a silver clasp inlaid with jade that matched his eyes, and stepped through the floo to the Leaky Cauldron.

The cacophony of noises that assaulted him were slightly disorienting as he stepped from the fireplace, but a gentle squeeze from Nagini brought him back to focus. He attempted to slink through the throng of patrons and those moving to enter the alley as well, but someone knocked into him from behind, jostling him and causing his familiar to hiss rather menacingly at the one who dared to disturb her.

That also had the effect of quieting the entire pub as they all turned to stare at the young teen, finally realizing what it was that made such a loud noise.

He wanted to groan and throttle Nagini at the same time for bringing attention to him when he was already impatient to get to Gringotts, but now everyone was looking at him like he was the reincarnation of Herpo the Foul. He sighed, straightened himself, put up the most indifferent face he could manage, unaware that he looked just as one would expect of a pureblood heir, and continued on to the brick gate that guarded the alley.

Snapping his right wrist, a grey wand appeared, ornately carved runes and etchings adorning it, which he tapped in the correct sequence to activate the wall.

He strode through and began to walk quickly towards the grand, marble bank, paying no heed to those that avoided -scurried from- his path or shrieked at the sight of Nagini, who was even more smug at the fear she caused. He thought her slightly like a preening peacock, but that would stay with him unless he wished her wrath.

This not being his first time at the Wizard bank, he strode through the doors and by the guards with a confidant gait, towards a teller who was free at the moment. The goblin at the counter seemed more refined than his other fellow employees, holding himself with poise while eyeing him up and down.

He felt himself waver for a moment at the atypical attitude of the usually surly group, but pressed forward without delay, less he anger the teller whose time he would be wasting.

The goblin, GrimGrin if his nameplate was to be believed, seemed disinterested "Your name?" his speech was less gravelly as well, huh, curious.

"Harrison" for he knew better than to speak his surname in such an open environment "I have come bearing the keys of two guarded vaults, requiring access on the matter of family inheritance." The goblin looked slightly more intrigued now, though that is understandable, as it is rare to hold ownership over two of the ancient vaults, meaning two ancient families.

"Present the keys for verification" he quickly extended the keys over the counter, wary of allowing any part of myself too close to the, typically, hostile being.

GrimGrin held the keys over a shining metal plate, the surface of which was a lattice of intersecting Rune matrices, before they both shined with a dim, gold light, signifying their authenticity.

"Very well" he returned them before barking out in a strict voice "Grinder! Cart service, lower levels!"

Many of the customers surrounding him attempted to discretely discern who he was, no doubt wondering why a child of all people would need access to one of the old vaults, but it didn't matter a moment later when a goblin who followed the typical stereotypes, unlike the last one, arrived. He was motioned onward, where they traversed the halls of the accountants and managers, before coming to a rail track holding the standard transportation within Gringotts' halls.

He sat, before allowing Nagini to coil around the guard rail for support - _I appologissse for making you participate in thisss, but we both know that you would not allow me to be alone with a goblin, without your protection-_

 _-I ssshall be fine with thisss, for I have done it many timesss before Tom lossst his human ssshell-_ he sighed, knowing this already, but not liking it either.

The goblin spoke, extending his hand "Your key, so that we may finish this in a more efficient time" he spoke of the cart's rune pad similar to the teller's, acting as a key to allow the cart to enter the restricted zone of the lower vaults.

The goblin, Grinder, Harry recalled the name, took them and nodded before they were screaming down the track towards destination. The excitement may not have shown in his face or posture, but it simmered just underneath, frothing as it tried to escape him. He would finally be able to don the heir rings of his two families, something that can only be done at eleven when the internal magic of the heir stabilizes. There were some rather gruesome stories held in the library about those who attempted to let the stored magic in the rings attach to them before it was ready. He shuddered, losing his magic would be the least of his worries if that were to occur.

He was knocked from his thoughts when the cart screeched to a halt before a tall, black door flanked by life-sized statues of the Gaunt family animal, the Basilisk. Grinder shot him a nasty grin, possibly hoping he would be maimed for being a wizard he mused, before telling him what was needed to enter the vault.

"Bare the key to the sentinels, coated in your blood. Should your tithe be accepted, they will stand down and allow you entrance, but should they deny it..." he obviously wanted the second situation, based off of that hungry gleam in his eye. He nodded.

He walked forward, Nagini trailing slightly behind as to not interfere, and stopped before the statues that had begun to animate at his presence. He quickly used his wand to cause a small cut on his palm, settling the key there to allow it to be coated. Once he decided it was truly slathered in his life, he healed the cut with a willed burst of magic to his palm and offered the item of interest before the snouts of the stone beasts.

Two sibilant voices hissed in unison - _Ye, child of the blood of the Gauntsss. Thy claim takesss and holdsss without trickery before the ssstandardsss of the originalsss. Thou are't declared the heir of the line. Take, now, the ring which proclaimsss your title and make proud thine ancessstorsss-_ before the two returned to their original positions and lie dormant once again.

He was startled when Nagini nuzzled his cheek - _You have done well, my hatchling. Now we know that what we ssspoke of to the two professsors is correct. HE wasss denied accesss to thisss vault and the title, for hisss blood was tainted by the black ritualsss in which he partook. The Gaunt magic truly and sssingularly liesss with you now-_ she sounded so proud, it touched him and he smiled, just as happy.

He stroked her large head, silently marveling at the ring positioned on his left index finger. It was a white-gold band engraved with runes to contain a large portion of the family magic, and the large onyx gleamed under the torches lighting the area. He had already gained a connection to the Gaunt magic through the rune on his forehead, but that was just that, a connection. Now he could feel the magic within the ring curling inside of him, interacting with his own magic and strengthening his bond with it.

He turned from his musing to the, now, slightly nervous Grinder who was watching him with hawk-like intensity "I wish to proceed to the next vault, if you have no more business here" Grinder startled at his voice, but regained himself and nodded solemnly. Hmmm, watching the ceremony must have gotten to him more than he thought.

The trip to the Peverell vault was short, and he was able to see the facade that his patriarchal ancestors had chosen to represent themselves with. Unlike with the other, this one had no statues, but a row of columns on either side.

"To access this vault, you must allow your magic infused blood to come in contact with the center of the crest upon the door. We do not know what will occur after that, for it is to be unknown to all who lay claim." Grinder informed.

He nodded, before coming up to the Peverell crest, the symbol of the Hallows surrounding it. As his blood came in contact with the vault, all sound ceased as if it were never there in the first place, and he froze in place, much like he had been petrified. His breath chilled and came out in a fog, which he numbly realized was similar to the effects of a Dementor's presence.

From behind came a powerful yet arrogant voice, but it was airy and hollow as well "You may be young, but your magic is formidable, your skill praiseworthy. For your fortitude, you are accepted."

Another voice, this time so full of grief that it made his heart ache "You have known love in your life, from multiple sources, yet you have also known loss. For your perseverance, you are accepted."

Yet again a voice toned, one humble but filled with pride well deserved "You have had fame and fortune, yet you have stayed humble and kind. For your character, you are accepted, heir Peverell."

As though the world began to turn again, sound became apparent, his frozen body was able to move again, and the horrible chill disappeared, letting him sigh in relief. He turned sharply, searching for any source of the the voices he heard, but there was nothing except for a curious Grinder and Nagini looking at him from the cart. Attempting to regain his composure, he breathed deeply and calmed his mind, employing occlumency to aid him. He felt nothing off about himself, other than a new weight on his right hand.

His eyes snapped to his hand, where he saw a golden ring, holding a peridot embossed with the symbol of the Hallows. It had to be the Peverell heir ring, he felt giddy. He had both of his rings now and felt the truly awe inspiring feel of the weight of both his family magics mingling within him, strengthening as they felt familiarity in the other.

He quickly strode bock to the cart "I have finished my business, Grinder. May we both depart to the surface?" the goblin nodded before returning to the conductors podium.

Nagini raised her head towards him as she re-wrapped herself around the rail - _We could sssee nothing different from when you approached the vault, to when you ssseemed to freeze for a moment. What happened, hatchling?-_ she was curious, but concerned as well, which warmed him,

He smiled at his companion - _I do not truly know myssself, but voicesss ssspoke to me of my worth, before calling me heir Peverell and vanissshing. It is curiousss, but I believe they were ssspiritsss-_

She looked even more curious at that, but he couldn't blame her. It was entirely possible that the guard of the ring had something to do with the Necromantic properties of the family magic, just as parseltongue was used as the guard for the Gaunt's.

The trip back to the surface was done in relative silence as both he and she pondered over the fact that he was now truly considered the heir to both of his families, giving him greater rights in Wizarding Britain. For now that his two rings had declared him worthy, he had gained what was truly his main goal: Emancipation.

Within the hierarchy of the Wizengamot, those who are the last of their lines are to be considered mature enough to take care of themselves when they turn eleven, given they had someone of age to sponsor them, and those who are given this privilege are also allowed to proclaim a voice for their hereditary seats on the governing body. He had quite the plan for his proxy, he smirked.

This was the reason that he had not come out to the public and government as being alive for all this time, they would have forced him to be raised by an 'upstanding citizen'. He had no delusions of who he would be taken to if he was forced into a family, Voldemort's lackeys held great political clout and even bigger pocket books to sway others.

Nagini had told him that there was no way he was going to be trapped in danger in one of 'the boot-licker's greedy claws', and he definitely agreed with her that that would be a really bad situation, he shuddered thinking of some of the things she had told him about the Death Eaters.

* * *

Diagon Alley was bustling as he exited the bank, but he was sure, given earlier reactions, that he would have no problem navigating to the different stores with Nagini to act as a deterrent.

With that in mind, he made his way towards Madame Malkin's robe shop to pick up his specially tailored school robes, which she crafted using spells to later gain the color of the house the student was sorted into. Walking in, he noticed the many different styles of robes he could see, some interesting, some bizarre, before he was pulled from his thoughts by a voice.

"Welcome, young man. Are you in need of Hogwarts uniforms?" The speaker was a cheerful, plump woman with kind eyes and smile lines, showing her happy disposition. Though, they nervously shifted to Nagini, who had decided to follow along after him on the ground.

He smiled reassuringly at the witch "Yes ma'am, I think I'll need five in silk, please. And don't worry about her, she's my familiar and won't attack anything that dosen't harm me." Malkin visibly relaxed at that, then shored herself up and gained a professional look, showing that she was a true businesswoman.

She nodded "Right then, shall we head to the back and take your measurements? And we have three styles of silk to choose from: Acromantula, Flubberworm, and muggle silk from the Orient."

He thought for a moment "Hmmm, I would like acromantula silk, please, but I'm only in need of the outer robe and tie containing the charms you place. I have all other necessary clothing for my uniform at my home." He really did, there being an acromantula colony on the grounds at the Sanctuary that Click took silk from to make all of Harry's clothes.

She gave him an appraising look before she spoke "Very well then, come with me to the back and we shall see to taking your measurements." She led him behind a curtain at the back of the shop, to a room where a young man around his age was already having his measurements taken by an assistant.

As he stepped up, the two discretely eyed the other in an assessing manner. The boy had very light, almost platinum, blond hair slicked back with a gel of some form. He had a narrow, sharp face associated with purebloods that was held in an arrogant look, attempting cool dignity. He spied the heir ring on his finger and came to the realization that this was Lucius Malfoy's son, a man Nagini said was sly like a snake, but too self-important to be worth consideration. It seemed he had been teaching his son the same lessons, he mused.

The Malfoy heir obviously spied his heir rings too, if the slight widening of his eyes was any indication. The boy drew himself up haughtily, probably assuming that he was of a lesser house, the crests of his families not something seen for a long time.

"Howarts too?" So he decided to fish for information, hmmm.

He turned to the boy "Yes, I am here for my outer robes and ties, as I already have tailored outfits to match the uniforms at the manor." He had learned well from Nagini that you dealt with these types by flaunting superiority. It made them listen when you spoke.

The boy looked intrigued at that, and slightly irritated. Maybe because he had to stand here for all of his clothing to be prepared? "Ah, I'm here with father who is dealing with business, and mother who is looking at wands." He stuck out his hand "I'm Draco Malfoy, heir Malfoy" He looked so proud of that, puffing up. It was amusing

He grabbed the hand a shook it firmly "Harrison, heir Gaunt, heir Peverell"

Draco looked confused for a moment, before it cleared, shaking back as firmly as he.

"I haven't heard of those families before...?" Ah, that was what caused the confusion.

He nodded "I would be surprised if you had. The Peverell family supposedly dissipated around five-hundred years ago. The Gaunt family lost much of its prominence in the past century or so. They became rather reclusive, hiding away from the rest of the world, and the last member died in '81."

Draco blinked "Huh, I'll have to ask father for more about them when we return home."

"Your father is Lucius Malfoy, is he not? He is a rather well-known Lord in the Wizengamot." Draco looked to be getting defensive before he continued "He has recently promoted more separatist legislation, something about the closing of all entrances to the muggle world."

Draco seemed to relax again "Yes, he finds that having entrances that may be found by the muggles to be disastrous. Why have them when all witches of age can apparate or floo?" It seemed he followed his father's teaching and politics well.

He hummed distractedly "Well, what of the muggleborns and orphans that reside in the muggle world? They can't apparate and most have no access to the floo network. How would they access our world if not for the entrances?" He tested the waters on Draco's view of those not of pureblood, seeing if he followed Lucius to that end as well.

Draco sniffed as though disgusted "Why should we cater to the whims of mudbloods? They are a scourge to society and need to be thrown out, before they taint the Pureblood lines further."

There was quiet when he finished speaking, causing him to look around for the problem. He wished he hadn't.

Harry was glaring at the bigot coldly, while Nagini, who had been resting out of sight, rose to her rather considerable hight, hissing menacingly at the boy who had insulted her hatchling. Malkin and the assistant had gone rigid, pale at the threatening image, and Draco looked as though his blood had left his body entirely, he had paled so much.

Harry spoke lowly, softly in a way that made it all the more cold and deadly "My mother was a muggleborn, killed by Voldemort when I was young. She had been recruited to the Unspeakables, working in the Department of Mysteries, yet you would consider her _beneath_ you? For that matter, Voldemort, the paragon of the Pureblood dogma, was _destroyed_ by a halfblood, Harry Potter. Albus Dumbledore, the defeater of Grindelwald, the only one Voldemort _feared_ is a halfblood. What do say to that?"

The two workers were watching intently, not daring to speak in this moment. Draco looked a little panicked, searching for an answer but not finding one. Finally he seemed to collect himself enough to sneer shakily, before he turned to Malkin.

"Are you finished?" she nodded distractedly, before he stepped from the stool he was on and stormed out through the curtain.

He and Nagini calmed when he was out of sight, before he turned to Malkin, looking apologetic.

"I'm sorry that we may have caused trouble for you." She blinked once before she smiled gently back at him.

"Not many people would have the courage to stand up to someone like Lucius Malfoy, so don't worry about it. I'm a halfblood who has had to deal with prejudice ever since I opened my shop, so it warms me to see someone so young have such a strong conviction."

He thought society was in a bad way if it was a surprise to see someone stand up for themselves, but now he had the chance to speak his mind and begin to make waves.

The Boy-Who-Lived, Heir Gaunt, Heir Peverell, Harrison James Potter was going to return, and with him, there would be changes...

He would make sure of it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I claim ownership of anything that I write about which is previously claimed by J.K. Rowling. I am writing this piece of fiction solely for the purpose of writing and am gaining nothing from this in the way of compensation.**

 **This is a day late, as most of my new chapters will be posted a week after the last, so sorry about that. I will follow that update schedule unless there are circumstances that cause me to be late.**

 **Thank you all for your support, enjoy.**

 _ **-Parseltongue-**_

* * *

Harry sat in a compartment on the Howarts Express, quietly reading a book. He'd made sure to arrive early so that he could watch the other students for a chance to guage their mannerisms and interactions with others. This decision was two part, one of a serious nature, the other the whim of an, admitedly mature, eleven-year-old boy.

He had heard the description of many of the pureblood nobles from Nagini, but he wanted to see their children and how they differed from the descriptions of their parents. The Malfoy situation earlier that week had left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He was by no means a political savant, but he had learned enough to read old Prophet articles and understand the issues that had come up since Voldemort had been destroyed. The Wizengamot was constantly at an impasse, the Dark followers using their clout and coin to expertly gain public and in-session support, while Dumbledore as Chief Warlock and a pulpit powerhouse of his own, used his base and supporters to counter all motions and bills that were more-or-less malignant to society, allowing the benign.

This had caused no short amount of arguing and blustering within the house, leading to a stagnant situation that was causing society to come to a hault. No new buisnesses were being opened, more and more muggleborns were leaving to return to their birthplace to find employment and acceptance, and legislation that aided the economy was grinding through at a snail's pace.

The whole matter could be placed at the feet of the two opposing factions of the last war.

Thinking on the war brought forth more memories and information about the Blood War and what was fought for by whom.

The Dark, so named due to its connection to the practice of Dark Magic, preached the superiority of those who had no muggle blood in their families for generation upon generation, and felt disgusted by those who did, who pandered to the whims of the muggleborns. All who fought them were labeled blood traitors, a heinous term describing those who turned their back on magic.

They praised those who had stayed pure, yet they slaughtered many of their own like hypocrits: the Bones, Longbottom, and McKinnon families to name a few.

He snorted at _that_ thought. They most likely joined the pureblood cause at first, but their master cared little for those who opposed him. Even if his followers disliked their orders, they had come far too under his sway to think about voicing their doubts, much less contimplate treachery.

Their main opponents was actually a vigilante group. Nagini had spoken of the Order of the Phoenix and how they called themselves the Light. He scoffed, did they truly believe that their world was safe and that some heavier restriction would drive away the new wizards and witches? True, they couldn't get vows from the parents of muggleborns or muggles in-the-know, them not having internal magic to make them binding, but he had heard of others of their kind galivanting around the muggles in clothing so out of date or _wrong_ , that there was bound to be notice. They crowed muggle rights, but did they have a problem sending an obliviator to tamper with their minds, that had no magic to help itself cope with the forceful semi-amnesia? No.

No, they each had their own solid points, but they also had areas in which they were either stupid or willfully ignorant, something he couldn't stand.

He was broken from his thoughts by voices and other noises showing up outside the train, signaling that the rest of the new and returning students and their families entering the platform.

He turned to observe them from his window, already seeing the class differences between the wealth and the rest, and spying his first child of a Death Eater. He bore the Nott crest, leading to the assumption that he was Theodore Nott.

The Nott family has always been at the healm of society, known as great scholars and researchers. One of the more notorious members of the family was Cantankerus- _that_ name was telling-Nott, the one supposedly to have coined the term 'the sacred twenty-eight', as he was believed to have written a symposium on the pride of the twenty-eight families who had supposedly remained 'truly' pure.

The current Lord Nott was Thadeus Nott, Cantankerus' grandson and one of the Death Eaters released on basis of the Imperius Curse, a fallacy at best.

Nagini had told him that many of those who had been released in this manner had been some of the most faithful, taking pleasure and pride in their deeds.

The Nott heir, for he could see a ring on his right hand, was stone faced next to his mother, a stately woman who looked to be of noble birth. They both gave a polite farewell before he strode up and into the train with purpose, no doubt having been instructed by the missing Thadeus to search for the children of allies and to converse with them, making his own allies within the school.

He saw a number of others in Nott's situation: Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle in his year.

He could also see that the Parkinson girl, Pansy he assumed, was rather odd with her face, reminisent of a certain dog, twisted between a haughty sneer and pure nervousness. He thought she looked rather constipated.

He didn't quite remember the young Crabbe and Goyle boys' names off the top of his head, Nagini would scold him for that later, but they were ones to watch out for.

Many assumed that the general displeasant looks of the two families was sign of their lesser being, but that was far from the truth. Their fathers were Voldemort's two battering rams when neccessary. They didn't quite have the great knowledge of the others, but they were part of Slytherin house for a reason. They were both vicious, and they were said to have taken down a dozen aurors on their own during the raid on Edgar Bones and his family.

That was another part of why he was observing these children, seeing if they had any inclination to be as dangerous as their parents, even if it was early on.

He saw a few others of interest as he gazed, the Dowager Longbottom and the heir, Neville, the Weasly family in all of its Prewett-red glory, Draco Malfoy and the Lady Malfoy looking as one would expect of their station, and a girl he didn't recognize whose eyes were darting around in amazement. Her hair was a point of interest itself.

Finally, as the train began to fill more and more, he looked back to his compartment and began to look through his book again, waiting for anyone to try to sit with him. He was sure it would be funny.

After a few minutes, the train began moving, and he was honestly surprised that no one had tried him yet.

As though he had tempted the fates, there was a knock on the door before it opened to reveal the youngest Weasley boy he had seen on the platform.

"Hey, there isn't much room in the other compartments, so it's kinda crowded. Can I sit here?" he looked too hopeful to turn away.

"Of course, you can join me if you wish" he did so, stowing his slightly ratty trunk above us "My name is Harrison, of the houses Gaunt and Peverell"

He didn't offer his hand, as was custom when meeting someone of a lesser peerage. The Weasley looked at him wierdly, then scrunched his nose a bit while eyeing his clothing.

Weasley tentatlively replied "I'm Ron Weasley."

Odd, but it was understandable. He had obviously expensive things, and he introduced himself as a high noble. The Weasly family was noticeably poor, but recovering after the current patriarch's father Septimus was fined heavilly by the Black family for marrying Cedrella Black when she was contractually betrothed to Abraxas Malfoy, costing the Black family to have to give the Malfoys her predescribed dowry.

That was actually the cause of the tensions and cool hostility between the Weasley and Malfoy families as well.

It was around this time that Nagini decided to show herself, probably sensing the new addition to the area. She was inside a box sitting next to him, as the inside was expanded by an elfin space-expansion charm by Clink before they had left home that morning.

The reaction was immediate

"What the Hell is that?!" Ron had jumped from his seat and was standing with his back to the door.

Nagini hissed a laugh, which made him give her a quick sideways glare.

"Don't worry, that is just my familiar Nagini. She really won't harm you"

"Won't harm me?! It's a bloody great snake! Are you daf-" he cut him off there.

"Stop" firm, it caused Ron's mouth to snap shut, he was pale, slightly shaking, and his eyes were jerking between he and Nagini as though they were Slytherin and his monster themselves.

"I said before that _she_ is my familiar, Nagini. She won't attack you or harm you unless you harm me first, it's that simple."

He raised an eyebrow at the boy, challenging him. The Weasley's wouldn't be the best allies, but this could be a potential friend.

Ron's eyes gained a glassy, distant look as though he was stuck in his own turmulous thoughts and emotions. Finally, he seemed to snap back to himself, looking more weary than panicked, but there was a hint of disgust in his eyes, just a hint. That answered Harry's question for him.

"Just go if you have a problem, you obviously do" Ron gave him one more look before fleeing, completely forgetting his trunk in his haste to get away.

Harry sighed tiredly through his nose, then turned to look at his now unammused companion.

- _I think that may be the norm for thisss trip, my friend-_

She slithered over to him and flicked her tongue on his nose - _Hatchling, not all people are asss cowardly asss that one-_

He just nodded distractedly, running a hand down her spine to her pleasure.

There were no other guests to his compartment for another two hours or so, so Ron must have taken it as his personal mission to inform others of the 'bloody great snake'. If that were true though, he expected at least one of the on board prefects or professors to come and question him, but that seemed to not be the case.

He honestly felt like he should check into being a seer as the door to his compartment opened to reveal Neville Longbottom and the excited girl he noticed earler standing there, expressions changing immediately to shock then fear.

He sighed when they just stood there without moving "Is there something you needed?"

That appeared to snap the girl from her moment, as she seemed to draw herself up and put on a slightly bossy yet open countenance.

"I'm terribly sorry if we came off as being rude, but we were searching for Neville's" she gestured at the still frozen boy "toad. This was the last compartment we needed to check."

"Oh, then I'm sorry to say no. I haven't noticed a toad at all."

Longbottom obviously didn't hear what was being said, but she looked a tad dissapointed, giving a soft "Oh."

"Well, thank you anyway. Come along Neville, we'll have to ask a professor for help."

Just like that, she all but dragged the other away with her before closing the door. She was an interesting one, already deciding to help someone who was more than likely a perfect stranger to her. Though that brought to mind the fact that she was either a muggleborn or a muggle raised witch. She had seen the rings on his fingers from the way she had paused on them in her inspection of him, but she had brushed by that without participating in the typical greeting that a magical human would give upon noticing them, whether noble or not. She was helpful, unless she was only helping the boy because she had lost the toad in the first place, she wasn't, to be blunt, ugly, and she was a fresh face to the new world she had found herself in. He didn't even know her name, but he was sure he would find out more about her later. One thing was decided for sure though.

Harry Potter had just found his first target.

* * *

Hermione Granger was very much excited, in her honest opinion. Since she had been visited by professor Flitwick, a curious and intelligent man to be the head of Ravenclaw, and told that she was a witch, she seemed to gain a whole new appreciation for herself.

She was a witch! She was special, something that she had believed to be impossible beofre the fact, and it explained so many of the odd occurences that had taken place. So with her greater intellect, again of her own opinion, she had decided that she would stand above and beyond in this place, she would learn any and everything she could about the world she foundd herself thrust into.

There was so much she needed to know before she arrived at Hogwarts! What were the people like, what was the civilization like, what were the differences in culture?

It was a daunting task she had set herself to, but it was the only thing that she would accept, as she would never let herself be willfully ignorant of any situation she brought herself into, soemthing she could not stand of others.

Diagon Alley had amazed her, for lack of a better word. The shops and people semmingly sowed discord by their very existance, yet they all functioned together rather well. The goblins of Gringotts were comletely unlike what was regailed by Tolkein, more closely relating to his dwarves, and the simplistic banking and currency styles fascinated her all the more.

Though, through all of her enjoyment of her surroundings, she found her favorite places to have been Flourish and Blotts and Olivanders.

Her wand felt like nothing else she had ever handled, seemingly melding with her entire being in a rush of pure warmth and affection that should be unable to be produced from a section of wood and a clipping of an animal. Though, the proprieter of the shop was extremely odd, looking at her as though she was the Princess of Wales herself...

Her haven was the book shop, and she would have purchased every last thing they had in stock if money were no object. There were books and tomes and scrolls detailing subjects that came from the oldest of the folklore of Avalon, conjuring and dragons and Merlin himself!

She ended up having enough money saved from allowance over the years to buy quite the extra number of books though, ranging from history, expecially of Hogwarts, the core subjects she would be taking, arithmancy, runes, divination, so many many books.

As soon as she had gotten home, she tore through her purchases with a fervor unseen in the eleven-year-old previously, her keen mind retaining all the information she filled it with, her retention having always been hightened.

She learned everything she could, hoping to prove to herself that she was worthy of the gift she was given by being apart of a secret society that, if she read right, could whipe the minds of anything they wished.

One of the most interesting things she learned was from a book about the climax of the last two Dark Lords, Grindelwald and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

A boy younger than her had defeated the most powerful dark wizard of the century, then dissapeared from his relatives home without a trace. He had survived a curse that was known to be impossible to block, the spell passing through any type of shield physical or magical.

How had the boy done it? She honestly didn't believe that he had. If there were other wizards and witches who had monumental skills and power and intelligence who had been unable to stop it before, what made the boy so special? She read about his dissapearance a few nights after the attack, and that he had never been found with no evidence of what could have happened.

That had thrown some cold water on her happiness as she descovered the wretched side of the world she was entering into.

She was thought of as many in the Wizarding World as nothing but a third-class citizen worth less than the dirt on their boots. There were terrible people there just like there were terrible people in the rest of thr world, and it was somehting she would have to be aware of. She had seen first hand on her second trip to find more books that some of the purebloods treated others as though they should be exterminated, calling them wretched names like mudblood and filth.

The splendor of the place was also dampened by the fact that many Death Eaters were still at large, and other dark wizard and witch sympathizers would and could go after her for no reason whatsoever. She vowed to herself that she would prepare for any eventuality, while silently doing the same to herself to prove to those who looked down on people like her that they could be better than them.

On the day she was supposed to board the Hogwarts Express, she had double-checked to make sure that everything she needed was in her trunk, and hugged her parents tightly before entering through the magical barrier at Kings Cross Station. Just like in the Alley, there was pandemonium as trolleys and families and animals all converged on the platform before a gorgeous red steam engine.

Her eyes darted around to take in all the sensations of the place, storing them away in her mind to think over for years to come.

Sitting in her compartment, she pulled out a book on potions ingrediant preperation that Mr. Flourish had told her was a must have for the class. It was only a few minutes later that there was a knock on the door and she grew excited. What if this was someone she could talk to and make friends with? Friends were a commodity she wasn't afforded back in her home town, so she was ever so excited to find someone to speak with about this new place she found herself in.

The door opened to reveal a slightly pudgy, blond boy with a red face.

"He-Hello, d-do you mind if I sit here?" He looked defeated, as though her answer would automatically be no.

She frowned, which made the boy lower his eyes, before she smiled brightly back.

"Of course you can sit with me. I'm Hermione Granger by the way."

The boy looked up at her, startled - something she would find more about later - before hesitantly stepping into the compartment and stowing his trunk next to hers.

There was silence for a few moments, Hermione shifted akwardly while the boy fixed his eyes determinidley on a spot on the floor. Finally she broke the quiet.

"So, what's your name?" the boy jumped slightly and looked at her wide eyed.

"Um, I'm Longbottom, Neville Longbottom, heir Longbottom." his voice was soft, slightly hard to hear.

"Oh, heir Longbottom? Does that mean you're the heir to the Longbottom lordship?" she was curious about this as it was only briefly mentioned in the books on magical society.

He looked down and mumbled his answer, making her sigh before she just decided to drop it. She was slightly dissapointed that the first person she met was barely able to speak for himself, much less become her friend.

There was another akward silence for the next hour or so as the two delved into their thougths, but this ended when Neville gave a slightly startled cry, shocking her out of hers. She saw he was frantically searching for something on his person, then around the compartment. He sat back in his seat, looking as though he wanted to have a cry.

"Where's Trevor? I can't lose him, Gran would kill me!"

She was shocked for a moment at the forcefullness in his voice, before her mind sang to her that this could be her oppurtunity to get an in with the quiet boy.

"Excuse me Neville, but who's Trevor?" he snapped his head to face her, looking rather shy once again.

"Oh, um, he's my toad. My Uncle Algie gave him to me, but I've lost him! I don't know what to do."

"Well, why don't I help you look for him? Since you checked, he's obviously not in here, so why don't we check the rest of the train?" he looked hopeful, which was a point to her plan in her mind.

"Th-Thanks, Hermione." she beamed back at him, before they both stood and left the compartment.

* * *

She was slightly frustrated that they hadn't found it yet, and was guiltily feeling like she wished she hadn't offered to help. No! She was going to see this through if it was the last she did! She would not go to a professor unless she needed to, wanting to show them and herself that she could do something without an authority figure holding her hand.

She and Neville had started at the front of the train and gone through checking on either side until they were at the last compartment to be checked, so straightening up, she knocked on the door before opening it.

She wasn't prepared.

Her body froze, but her mind worked furiously to take in everything about the room she just stepped into. The most obvious thing would be some type of reticulated python, looking straight into her eyes. It was coiled next to a boy around her age, with long and wavy black hair, pale-green eyes, and olive skin. He was looking at them in what appeared to be exhasperation. She numbly noticed in her scared state that Neville had gone totally still next to her.

He sighed before speaking up in a slightly accented voice, sounding somewhat Spanish if she remembered correctly.

"Is there something you needed?" there was the barest hint of impatience.

She shook herself of her stupor, noting that the snake hadn't made a move, probably meaning it wasn't going to attack unprovoked, and put on a, hopefully, strong and warm expression.

"I'm terribly sorry if we came off as being rude, but we were searching for Neville's" she gestured vaguely beside her "toad. This was the last compartment we needed to check."

He looked at them for a moment "Oh, then I'm sorry to say no. I haven't noticed a toad at all."

She deflated a bit, dissapointment filling her for the second time that day as she realized she would have to get help from either an older student or one of the onboard professors.

"Oh." then she added "Well, thank you anyway. Come along Neville, we'll have to ask a professor for help."

She took ahold of the still terrified boy's sleeve and forcibely pulled him from the compartment while closing the door behind her.

As she led her companion towards the professors' area, she thought of the boy and the serpent, for that was no mere snake. If his expressions were anything to go by, then they weren't the first people to have issues with his pet. He was also an heir of a lordship if the rings on his fingers were anything to go by, but other than that he was a complete mystery to her. She did adore a good mystery. He also seemed quite lonely, sitting there without anyone to speak to who could speak back.

In the depths of her mind, she also realized he was rather striking, his appearance the difinition of a dark prince like she read about as a child.

She didn't even have his name, nor did she give him hers. She would just have to find out more about him during and after the sorting ceremony, whatever that was going to be.

A while later as the train began to slow down, sitting in her compartment again with Neville cuddling his previously summoned pet to himself happily, she felt that Hogwarts was going to be extremelly interesting.

* * *

The ambient magic in the air around Hogwarts stirred as magic similar to her creators came closer. The grand castle seemed to shift and groan, startling the teachers inside except for three. Albus and Minerva shared a significant look, each thinking of the boy that would enter these halls in a matter of minutes, but there was a third that felt the school's unrest, silently contemplating what this would mean for the future.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I claim ownership of anything that I write about which is previously claimed by J.K. Rowling. I am writing this piece of fiction solely for the purpose of writing and am gaining nothing from this in the way of compensation.**

 **Thank you for all that Reviewed/Favorited/Followed since the last chapter was released. I would also like to apologize to those who care that I was a week late when posting. There are personal reasons behind that, but they are resolved and my previously chosen schedule shall be implemented from now on. Again, I apologize.**

 **-** _Parseltongue-_

 ** _Sorting Hat speaking_**

* * *

Harry exited the train among the thrall of students, bunched together in pre-formed cliques as would be expected of their age. Nagini had wrapped herself around his torso quite a few times to conceal her presence before taking a nap, her weight a non-issue thanks to a slightly overpowered feather-light charm, so as to not get trampled by the unaware feet of passers-by. The air was just as chilled as it was at the manor, Scotland's Autumn weather cooling quickly towards the end of Summer and into the new season.

He hastily made himself a part of the movement of bodies, watching his elders as they boarded carriages drawn by Thestrals, supposedly the only tamed herd of the frightening equine beings in the world, as none knew of the large group at the Sanctuary. Though he wasn't surprised to hear some of his fellow first years excited and curious whispers at the seemingly automated carriages, knowing that very few people his age could see the true reason for their movement. Oddly enough, he didn't see them from the death of his mother when he was a child, the young mind unable to comprehend death in such a way as to make them visible, but it was his connection to the other side of the Veil through the Peverells that cleared his gaze.

"Firs' years! Come alon' now, this way! Firs' years!" A booming, heavily accented voice called from a dark path.

He turned, searching for the speaker, who appeared from the night as a giant spectre, frightening some of those around him. He took in the rough appearance of who could only be Hagrid, the groundskeeper of the school, who despite appearances had a, giant, grin on his face as he took in all of them beneath his high gaze. He mentally smacked himself for the pun.

"This way! Now watch yer step there, don' wanna end up in a pile now do ya'? He turned and began down the, at a glance, harrowing path filled with wet cobblestones and no lights save a larger than normal oil lamp held in the giant's grip.

Harry ended up making his way beside his target and the Longbottom heir, sharing a sidelong glance with the witch as Neville stumbled around with all the grace of a frequent bar patron. He raised an eyebrow in slight humor as he was nearly dragged down by some boy on his right side, Target, as he decided to call her until he knew her name, muffling slightly hysterical giggles from his left where Neville pulled a mimicked performance on her. He snorted and her giggles burst out, causing some attention to be drawn to them. He internally grinned at interacting with someone so easily when his only company and conversation for most of his life had been snakes, Nagini, Click, and the few patrons of the Alley he had spoken to during his occasional trips. He'd imagined it would be terribly awkward, but he seemed to be doing fine so far, lack of actual speaking non-standing.

They came around a bend in the path, appearing before a massive body of water, a loche, still water giving off the impression of obsidian glass under the night sky. A row of small boats aligned the shore, which Hagrid told them to enter with no more than four people per. He sat with Target, Longbottom, and a boy with dark skin, short black hair, and vibrant purple eyes, almost a dark shade of violet. The boy was a mystery to him, not bearing an heir ring to identify him while choosing to remain silent.

Hagrid called for any stragglers that had not found a seat yet before the boats set off under the force of some type of enchantment, he assumed. There was definitely magic involved in the way the water showed nary a ripple as they travelled around a forested bend to look upon the whole of the lake.

Stunning

The first view he had of the castle was something out of Van-Gogh he was sure, with the swirling colors and stars of the night sky acting as the backdrop to the visage of a massive, ancient castle whose windows were filled with the flickering light of hundreds, if not thousands of candles. He heard Target gasp in what he assumed was astonishment, reverent silence coming from him and the two other boys. He tore his gaze from the awe inspiring image to look around the other boats and his fellow first years. Most held the same look as Target, but others held the stoic appreciation of the dark-skinned boy, meaning they were probably the ones raised in a wizarding home and taught the pureblood etiquette. Though it was oddly funny seeing the conflicted looks on many of them, meaning they were having trouble with their training.

He was broken from his musings by Hagrid yelling to duck their heads as they came upon an opening in a rock face, ivy hanging like a veil before it. He, as everyone else, bowed their heads as the excitement mounted higher. The boats came to a rest upon a slippery platform, seeming to stabilize to allow them access to the school. Hagrid made sure they were all out of the boats before said modes of transportation sunk back into the water, probably returning to where they were found initially.

They mable steps were crowded as everyone tried to make it to the front of the line, hoping to be the first to gain a glance of the interior. He hung back, neither wishing nor willing to be cramped and trampled upon by over-excited children, the fact that they were his age being completely ignored. Target seemed to have the same idea and hauled Neville back towards him, offering a shy which he returned with more confidence.

They came upon a door, taller than any other door he'd seen before, and Hagrid used his oversized fist to knock thrice, leaving a lingering echo within the stone hewn stairwell. It was promptly opened to reveal the tartan-clad Professor McGonagall, giving a sweeping glance with her sharp eyes. They landed on him before they softened somewhat, making her previously harsh demeanor become something more matronly, as one might see in a pre-school. She regained herself almost instantly though, speaking up.

"Thank you for your assistance, Hagrid. I shall lead them from here." Prim and proper as he remembered.

Hagrid nodded, thanking her before he lumbered off into the hall, quickly leaving sight. McGonagall led them through a long hall that ended by a grand set of carved wooden doors, sounds coming from behind it belying it as the area holding a majority of the students who had left earlier. She guided them a little farther until they entered into a large antechamber. She turned to us when we had all entered the room, speaking in a formal tone held by all teachers.

"Greetings students. I am Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress, Transfiguration Professor, and Head of Gryffindor House. I would like to welcome you all to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We shall enter the Great Hall momentarily to begin the sorting ceremony."

Her eyes sharpened some more, meaning business. "You shall be sorted into one of four houses: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. All four houses hold a grand and rich history, so accept your placement with honor. That house will become your home, the students your family as the years pass by. Smarten yourselves while I check to see if they are ready for you."

She turned and left us all alone after that, possibly not the best idea with a group of prejudiced pre-teens. Malfoy was standing with Crabbe and Goyle flanking him, like servants to a master, and he was sneering at everyone he could, possibly in an attempt of intimidation. He was a bit too young and baby-faced to have an effective glare. Ron Weasley was looking at him with the same expression that he would imagine someone else would look at a Nundu, just waiting for their demise like it was imminent. He snorted, bringing to himself the attention of his companions.

Longbottom looked at me with caution, before he shyly held out a lightly shaking hand, bowing his head slightly. He took the hand in mild surprise at the unexpected confidence of the timid boy, holding it but not shaking as was expected.

"I-I apologize for ins-s-sulting you..." he trailed off, waiting for him to announce himself. They had gained some attention from those surrounding us, including some of the Death Eater children and other heirs in attendance.

"Harrison, Heir Gaunt, Heir Peverell." Four things happened at that statement. The other heirs and D.E. children looked interested at the listing of two titles, Longbottom's eyes widened in shock, Target gained a gleam in her eye, and...

The magic of the castle raised to tremendous heights, pressing down on everyone in the school. The teachers recalled what had happened before the students arrived, preparing for anything as they drew their wands, the students in the Great Hall fell silent as it became slightly hard to breath, and the students in the ante-chamber gasped and shrieked as the magic swelled around them heavily.

Harry felt the familiar magic of his family intertwined with three other distinctive magics, wrapping around him in a slightly-frantic manner, searching it seemed. His magic left his body on its own accord, completely out of his control, mingling with the heavy dose of family magic that still lingered from Salazar and Godric and all previous heirs who lived here. He gasped in wonder at the ancient feel and pure _power_ that ran through him as the magic left him, only present in the content hum he could feel and almost hear in the back of his mind.

The other students had been too disoriented to notice the strange occurrence, so they only barely noticed the sound of rushed clicks of heels on stone as Professor McGonagall re-appeared before them, her eyes darting over everyone in an attempt to locate any abnormalities or injuries. She seemed relieved when her eyes landed in his general direction and found no difference in anyone in the area. She cleared her throat to gain their attention.

"Students! There is no cause for alarm, as what you just felt was somewhat expected, though not that intense." She sounded mildly annoyed "Everything is settled now, so follow me."

They followed, his small group included. Longbottom seemed to forget what they were doing before the occurrence, but Target did not it seemed, if the little victorious smirk on her mouth and the curious gleam in her eye was anything to go by. He was also slightly uncomfortable as Nagini kept shifting her weight in agitation at her abrupt awakening, as when the Gaunt magic had touched young Tom Riddle all those years ago, it had not created such a powerful sensation. Apparently the other three magics that came along for the ride this time around had been absent along with the Peverell magic, if her muttered and agitated hisses were to go by. He had to pinch her a bit when they became too loud, and others began to hear her. He swore he almost saw Longbottom's hand twitch.

As they grouped outside the doors that he had noted previously, he noticed that there was a curious lack of noise coming from the hall unlike earlier. He didn't give it much more though as the grand doors opened to allow him his first glimpse of the famous room. The stories he had read of did not disappoint as everything seemed as magnificent as he had imagined. Candles floating in large number gave a glowing ambiance that seemed to mystify his fellow first-years while enthralling him as well, intricate stain-glass windows were complimented by the fabled ceiling that was bewitched to mimic the sky above it and give the room a sense of endless height.

Rows of students lined on either side of them, staring as one would expect a child to stare at a fish bowl. The professors sat on a raised dais beneath the windows of the room, sat at the opposite end of the doors. McGonagall led them forward in lines that had been ordered pre-entrance to allow students to go forward easily when their name was called to be sorted.

Speaking of sorting, the elder witch went forward to the Headmaster and received a scroll before returning to stand beside a stool holding a hat. The others were curious, but he knew of the process from Nagini, the idea of letting him go into a situation unaware being completely asinine to the serpent. The hall quieted as the hat began to twitch, before a tear opened much like a mouth, eyes forming out of wrinkles in the old leather. The ancient artifact appeared to take in a great breath of air before belting out the sorting song of the year, giving a light description of the houses and the sorting process. It finished to raucous applause by the seasoned students, awkward clapping from the new, and polite agreement from the professors.

As the noise died down a touch, McGonagall unrolled the scroll in her hands and spoke one simple sentence, "The sorting will now commence."

On and on the list went in sending different students to their new houses for the next seven years: Abbot in Hufflepuff, Boot to Ravenclaw, Bulstrode for Slytherin, and Brown to Gryffindor. His interest was peaked when Target was then called, in a name that gave him pause.

Hermione Granger

So that was the name of the girl he had been focusing on so heavily for the past few hours, fitting to her image nicely. What gave him pause was not so much the Shakespeare inspired first-name, but the surname of the girl. Granger was part of a wizard name, a noble one at that. The truly unbelievable thing was that she was named Granger, _she._

The Dagworth-Granger line was notorious for never, and that is totally unexaggerated, giving birth to daughters after the debacle with Helena Ravenclaw stealing her mother's diadem. The blue and bronze founder had cursed her line through the family magic to only allow for men to be born, the last being Hector Dagworth-Granger some time ago before he died childless, seemingly ending the family. He'd noticed some muted interest in a sallow man robed in black, his appearance leading him to believe it was Severus Snape, another of those on his list of inspection. Well, the girl did somewhat appear to hold resemblance to the deceased Potions Master.

"Ravenclaw!"

He returned his attention to Hermione as she seemed to sag slightly in relief. He'd have to think more on that later as it was getting closer to his big moment in the spotlight. The sarcasm in that thought was so heavy it gave him pause, belatedly realizing that he was failing in paying attention when a clear voice rang out the next name.

"Potter, Harrison." The two in-the-know had mischievous sparks in their eyes, apparently fully ready to see the outcome that was sure to be similar to the one they faced those weeks ago when they learned he was alive.

They wouldn't be disappointed.

More than one, well really most of the students and staff were looking at the stoic woman in confusion, some outright bewilderment. He breathed through his nose deeply and allowed himself to fall into the blankness of occlumency to don a blank visage, and then he took a step forward.

Eyes were riveted to him as he broke the stillness of the atmosphere, following him like he was a young, unidentified creature; don't get too close if it might be dangerous. His heels clicked on the floors loudly among the ow muttering whispers that passed him by, wondering what this whole situation was about.

He finally reached the stool as the professor took the hat into her hands, smiling along with the headmaster. He shot them a small, conspiratorial wink before the hat was lowered on his head to cover his eyes. The last thing he saw was the extremely wide eyes of Weasley, Longbottom, and Hermione.

The hat twitched minutely before humming was heard in his head, startling him only slightly as he was unused to hearing anything, including his own thoughts, when his mind was blanked. It chuckled at his small spook.

" _ **Fear not, young heir. My effectiveness would be quite limited if I was not given a backdoor through Mind Magic, would it not?**_

That made sense. Occlumency and Legilimency were arts that had been created by Ravenclaw to protect herself from having the secrets of her wards-scheme to Hogwarts stolen, so it only made sense to have an artifact partially made by her to include a nod to her skills. The purpose of the hat only increased the necessity further.

 _ **"Yes, indeed it does. Now to place you in your new home. I am going to say now that entering into one of your familiar houses will allow you more room to yourself than the two others."**_

So he had a choice, huh? That was nice to hear, think, whatever this method of reception was. He honestly thought it would be better for him to enter Gryffindor, as he was sure that would allow him less constraint in the public eye. Slytherin though was also appealing with its access to many of the heirs that attended the school currently, many politicians coming from that house due to its character traits of ambition and cunning. Hmmm, each had its cons as well, but he was almost positive that this choice would aid him more so than the other.

 _ **"Yes, he he he, I believe Godric would be proud of your decision, so it better be...**_ Slytherin!"

The hat was lifted from his head, allowing him to take in the expressions ranging across the hall. His fellow students were looking at him with a little more unsurety than before as they hesitantly applauded, but his own new house seemed to truly grasp the thought that if somehow possible, as ludicrous as it seemed, then this would be a major boon to them in both the political arena and the social circles of their world.

He turned a quick glance at both of the knowledgeable professors, and he wasn't really surprised to see a small glimmer of disappointment in the younger of the duo's eyes. She had probably hoped that his blood-lineage would grant him a grandfathering inclusion into her house much like the rest of the Potters. He strode to his new table and quickly took his place beside Theodore Nott, turning to observe the rest of the sorting which quickly ended with Weasley in the predictable and the other boat-rider, Blaise Zabini of the Zabini house, to sit beside him in the house of green and silver.

The headmaster caught their attention as he stood, and held his hands behind his back in a placid but powerful pose. "Welcome to students new and old! Allow me a small quip before we begin the feast. There will be a longer announcement later, so please stay seated after your meals. Tuck in!" He seated himself as he smiled brightly at the four tables.

Harry turned himself into his seat more properly, as expected in polite company, and began to prepare his plate from several choices of one who had extensive training in dining etiquette. His fellow new dorm-mates all kept eyeing him as discretely as they could with differing expression ranging from curiosity, fascination, confliction, and indifference, the last coming from Crabbe and Goyle as they tucked in with fervor.

It seemed that no one wanted to be the first to form an inquiry, as the headmaster waved a hand and vanished the food and mess from the tables, impressing many he could see. He stood and everyone else gave him silence.

"Yes, thank you. Now there are reminders that those of you who have attended in the past shall recognize. There is a list of banned items hanging from Mr. Filch's door, too many to spout off the top of my head at my age." He smiled jovially as there were sounds of amusement from the students, "There shall be no magic used in the halls, unless deemed necessary by a professor, and as the name implies, the Forbidden Forest is off-limits to all who are not given permission by a professor or myself." His eyes turned hard, belying the seriousness of the rule. The pair of twins sitting at the Gryffindor table seemed to wilt under the man's gaze.

The serious aura dissipated when the elder smiled again and spread his arms wide. "Now that all of this is out of the way, I bid you good evening and good luck in your classes tomorrow. Schedules shall be received tomorrow at breakfast, so make sure that you don't sleep in." He clapped, and the prefects of the four houses stood to lead the first years along towards the common rooms.

He stood with the rest of Slytherins, walking with Zabini and Nott out of the room once the other three houses had scurried off. Just as he was walking away, he felt eyes on the back of his head and turned his head to see Professor Snape with a blank gaze staring him in the eyes, almost searching but unable to understand what he was looking for. Another thing to add to the man's mental profile then.

The walk to the common room through the dungeons was as silent as the grave, save for the sound of fluttering clothing and footsteps. He was well aware of the silent scrutiny of the others around him, not just for his name but his rings as well. He honestly believed them to only think he was actually the Boy-Who-Lived with half a mind. Their reaction at the feast, however, was telling in the fact that they do not trust authority figures as much as others might, taking nothing for granted. They, and their parents included, most likely held some suspicion against Albus Dumbledore to hold at least a small amount of belief in the old superstition that he was being trained by the man in secret.

After all, the boy who defeated Dumbledore's greatest rival since Gellert Grindelwald would have to have either great power or a just as great ability to do what he could not. He would be the man's perfect poster boy for the non-separatist Light, his muggleborn mother and pureblood, old-line father helping his case.

They came upon a dead end; the wall holding a fresco of a Basilisk as it slithered around a room full of tall columns, looking at them with predatory, yellow eyes. The male prefect, whose name he couldn't recall being spoken earlier turned around to them with a glare that was threatening for a teenager, speaking to them.

"This is the entrance to the common room of the noble Slytherin House." Harry mentally snorted at that mistake "The password will be changed by our head of house, Professor Snape. At the end of the week, the password will be told to you in a meeting in the common room that is mandatory. This week it is Ouroboros."

The boy spun around as the serpent's gaze focused on him and bared its fangs slightly. The other first years began to get visibly, barely noticeable, nervous as it let out a light hiss, before turning its head away from them and slithering into the darkness. The boy turned to them and smirked before squaring his shoulders, walking through the wall.

Harry assumed it was like the barrier at the train station, and confidently walked through the wall as the others seemed to do the same. Forcing himself through what felt like a mess of cobwebs, he knew that he had entered a woven net of threads of magic that made up a set of active wards. The wards at home felt smoother and thicker than these, but that was to be expected of a place that housed creatures that could kill armies.

The wards reacted as soon as he was through them, entering the common room for the first time. The fire in the fireplaces turned a dark emerald, holding a molten-silver core, the wards shifted lightly to give him access but not control, and a portrait of a handsome man that he bore a rather striking resemblance to him seemed to awaken from slumber, his portrait situated on a stretch of wall between two descending staircases.

Even as the other students shifted nervously or went rigid at the change in a familiar atmosphere, he and the man locked eyes, and in that moment there was a rush as he felt the most terrifyingly powerful rush of something like Legilimency force thoughts to the front of his mind, watching them as one would a movie at the cinema. No matter what he tried, he couldn't pull up the blanket of emptiness that he was used to when he employed Occlumency, and it scared him.

That spike of fear also seemed to coincide with the last of his memories rushing through his mind at a lightning-quick pace. Even as the foreign presence left him, he could feel the same presence soothing his aching head to a state similar, if not just as, to how he felt before the experience. The man in the portrait gained a shine in his previously blank eyes, before opening his mouth and speaking.

- _Welcome Harrissson Potter, heir to my brother and myssself.-_


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I claim ownership of anything that I write about which is previously claimed by J.K. Rowling. I am writing this piece of fiction solely for the purpose of writing and am gaining nothing from this in the way of compensation.**

 **I know that in the last chapter, I said that I would update weekly. I apologize, but my proofreader didn't reply to my e-mails asking about my stories until last night. This chapter is late, but Chapter 6 will either be posted today, on time, or tomorrow. I have him working ahead of schedule with the next three chapters already, so they will be released on time, hopefully.**

 **Here's Chapter 5, enjoy!**

 **- _Parseltongue-_**

* * *

Harry could only stare at the man, Salazar Slytherin. Even for a portrait, the man conveyed a sense of danger and an aura of power. The silence grew all the more tense as others heard the hissed language of their house. Wary looks were traded, but he didn't notice as focused as he was on his distant relative. He could feel Nagini stir before she moved from underneath his cloak, eliciting a palpable stench of fear and uneasiness from the other students.

Salazar trailed his gaze to the creature, interest sparking in cold viridian. Harry gathered himself as the weight of those eyes fell off of him, allowing him reprieve from their ancient scrutiny. The mental assault left him off kilter, but he easily pulled back his emotions once again in an effort to take in this situation with cool logic. It shook him, however, that his skills in the defensive mind art were rendered so ineffective.

With his faithful familiar beside him, he decided to make the ripples he had already formed crest that much higher.

Bowing slightly, which returned attention to him, he replied similarly - _I thank you, Elder Sssalazar.-_

Said man smirked as a few shuddering gasps left their audience. Nagini eyed the portrait before following suit, as this man was a famous speaker in his own right. Although he knew that this portrait had sat empty during her last stent in the serpent den. He barely held in a smirk as he imagined the fury and indignation felt by Voldemort when his ancestor failed to appear before him.

Salazar spoke again, - _I wasss sssurprisssed when I felt the magicsss ssshift. Imagine my confusssion when I felt not jussst the Gaunt magic, but all of the magicsss of the cassstle ssswarm to one perssson.-_ The man raised an eyebrow at him, and he surprisingly felt a tad embarrassed.

A small noise to his left made him pause in his thoughts. A positively devious idea came to mind as he sent a significant look to Salazar, who chuckled ominously.

Nagini curled around his feet and rose her head proudly, which drew a small whimper from a certain blond. He set his face in a blank, if somewhat proud, look and turned his head as though observing the others. The many faces showed their age and maturity, as the elders showed none of the anxiety and fear that he could read from the younger.

Deciding he had all captured their attention thoroughly, he spoke in a carefully measured voice, "There have been startling revelations tonight, I know, but I would prefer if you would allow me my privacy for the time being. I assure you that all things will be revealed in time."

He could have told them everything then and there, but this way played into his image he would have to generate for himself in an attempt to draw the Slytherin house, and its influential parents, to his side. Salazar must have seen his ambition and goals for the house, as that was the only reason he could imagine the famously cunning man blatantly exposing one of his heirs.

- _You will find my roomsss behind thisss portrait. Asss with the fresssco protecting thisss room, you only need ssstep through to enter.-_

He snapped his attention towards the portrait once more, before nodding his gratitude towards the man. Said man's eyes narrowed thoughtfully before he walked out-of-frame.

Before Harry could think on why the man would leave so quickly, he noticed when someone entered the wards he had been recently tied too, them whispering the name of his head of house in his mind. He shot a quick, forceful stare around the room for the others to notice him as he mouthed _Snape._

Even those in his year had the proper knowledge of decorum and tact, straightening themselves and donning blank faces. He himself quickly went towards an open wingback chair done in a bottle-green leather, Nagini slithering to curl in front of the roaring, now returned to normal, fire.

It was only a moment later that the dour man appeared from the wall, intriguing him by the fact that it looked like he had exited a curtain of water instead of solid stone. There was a subtle air around the man that was different than how he held himself like earlier, something just seemed _off_ with him. There was also the fact that those eyes locked with his the second he had finished his initial sweep of the room.

Those eyes were contradictory in a way, showing multiple emotions in quick succession while holding a distinct hollow quality. Empty wasn't the proper word Harry had for them, more like lightly vacant. The man also held the most subtle sag to his previously straight shoulders. The thing that made him somewhat uncomfortable, but unendingly curious, was the longing he could pick up in the cocktail of emotions he saw swirling in inky depths.

All of this happened in little time, seemingly a moment, and the man closed his expression once more before speaking, "Welcome to the House of Slytherin." Harry took notice of the mans lack of the word noble, meaning he must have been informed by one of the two professors.

"This house has an ancient history of raising and moulding the future leaders of our world, meaning you all have potential to become influential. For this reason, which most of you must realize at this point, you are expected to hold yourself to a different standard than all others." His voice had a hypnotic quality in its staccato tone, clipped and unmoving in its demand. The man certainly knew how to hold attention without raising the volume.

Those eyes narrowed now. "You shall not allow this house to have its reputation tarnished any more that what it has. All, and I mean _all_ , issues shall be settled in these walls, never outside. You will be the best of your years as that is what you are. You were chosen because you had the drive and determination, the skill and knowledge, the strength to handle the cutthroat world many of you wish to throw yourselves into. You are the best, so I expect the best."

He added to his mental profile of the man, knowing that he was as sharp as his tongue if Nagini were to be believed. This was not a man he could underestimate in any way. He was much too dangerous. That longing from before put him on edge, as he wasn't sure where its roots latched.

The man gave one more narrowed glare around a visibly nervous room, before one last glance was thrown in his direction. Still holding his gaze, the man spoke one last time, "Be prepared for classes tomorrow, good evening." Then he turned on his heel, billowing out his jet robes, and left as he had come. In silence.

There was a tense moment, before he decided to make his exit as well. Standing, and making all eyes snap to him once again, he and Nagini walked, or slithered, straight through the empty portrait, leaving behind the numbed minds of his fellow classmates unsure of what the future held.

* * *

The room he entered was somewhat what he expected, yet not at all as well. It was spacious, nearly the same size as the common room he had exited. The floors were black marble, the ceiling and walls holding the same cave-like feel that the rest of the dungeons had held. A singular fireplace of the same marble the floor was made of sat at one end of the rectangular space, though it was much larger. Sconces trailed the walls, the same flames that had appeared earlier taking their places within them.

The room was divided into what seemed to be a small lounge, situated near the mantle, a section partitioned off with shelves to resemble a small library nearby. The other half of the room held a large, ornate cast iron bed with a canopy of darker-green silk. The duvet and sheets were a lighter, emerald color with silver pillow shams. A dresser stood on its left, next to an expansive wardrobe. Two other doors stood directly across from his on the opposite wall. An image formed in his mind of a luxurious bathroom and a small office.

Deciding that his connection to the wards was wonderful, he sank into a chair in the lounge area. Nagini decided to drape herself across him like only she could, seemingly ridiculous and dignified simultaneously. He snorted when she turned to look at him with a 'what are you waiting for?' expression, making him reach out a hand to stroke down her spine as she liked. She really was like a dog at some times, though he didn't think dogs could be such drama queens. Or nearly as scary as she was when pissed, he shivered.

He began one of his mental exercises as a way to calm himself and think about all that happened today. He expected that tomorrow would be hectic as people outside and inside of Hogwarts realised that yes, he was _the_ Harry Potter, even if he decided to go by Harrison to those he wasn't close to. He could almost imagine the pandemonium that the next few days would bring as he was revealed to the world, as a Slytherin no less, all the while bonded to Voldemort's familiar.

He was pleased with himself though. His plans to gain the Slytherins' interest was only helped with the surprise of Salazar Slytherin himself holding a conversation with him in parseltongue. _That_ had been startling to say the least, as Nagini had informed him that the portrait had remained empty for the totality of Voldemort's time at the school. That made him wonder at the wards he was now keyed into. Had Voldemort had the same amount of control that he does over them? Did he have any control at all?

It would explain how he was able to corral all of those pureblood heirs and students to him if he could use them. Even now he knew the name of every person in the house and where they were, including Snape in an office that was connected to the wards close by.

He had these advantages on top of other advantages he would have already had, but that also made him nervous.

When would the other shoe drop? He had been lucky that Dumbledore and McGonagall had been so supportive of his ideas so far, but what would happen now that he would have to deal with all the others that were top players in the world? He may be intelligent, he may know things that give him an advantage, he may be more powerful than your average eleven-year-old, but there were people he was going to be making enemies of that had all of those things in spades.

He sighed, realizing that Nagini wouldn't have let him come and reveal himself if she didn't believe he had a good chance, even great, of accomplishing the things that he set his mind to. Humans may be paranoid, but they had nothing on the self-preservation skills of a true snake.

Deciding that he was too worked up over things that would come to pass with or without his influence, he focused on the faint spark of his active magic, willing it to come to the surface of his skin and through his extremities. The rush of electrifying power came to him as it had for quite some time, his control over manipulating it having been one of the first things had did when he had turned five and his first internal limiter had dissolved.

He would have to do his exercises more though, as he felt a small portion of his magic attempt to rebel against his restraint. Well, his second limiter had dissolved on his last birthday, so he wasn't too surprised or annoyed.

The rhythmic pulsing of his internal magic, combined with the hum of the wards in his mind lulled him into a relaxed, numb state before he drifted off to sleep.

He slept peacefully under the watchful eyes of his familiar and the hidden eyes of the ancient founder.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore sat in his office, eyes unfocused as thoughts ran unbidden through his mind. Opposite him sat his two most trusted staff, Minerva and Severus.

Even in his distracted state he noticed the blank stare of the dour potions master, no doubt pondering the same boy as he and Minerva. He could only imagine the total upheaval that the man must be going through with tonight's revelations. Lily Evans, before the incident during their schooling, had been the man's only companion in a place where he was besieged by not only the three other houses, but his own as well. Seeing the presumably deceased child of his, to his knowledge, only source of affection must be affecting him in ways the even he couldn't understand.

Minerva was slightly disappointed with the young man's placement, based on her current disposition. From the day they had returned from their enlightening, and exhausting he admitted, meeting with the boy, she had been hoping for the child she had known as an infant to enter the house of two of her favorite cubs as she liked to think of Gryffindor students.

Deciding there had been enough silence, he spoke, catching their attention immediately. "There have been some startling revelations tonight."

Minerva snorted, dashing any attempts at decorum, before looking at him in annoyance. "Startling revelations, Albus? I've never seen the students, or teachers for that matter, so out of sorts." Here she sent a side-eyed glance at Severus, who didn't seem to notice or gave no indication otherwise.

"Yes I must agree with you, and I don't believe tomorrow shall be calm, if the number of owls that were sent out of the owelry are any indication." He grimaced slightly at that thought, blonde hair and green quill flashing through his mind momentarily. He wasn't the only one to have thoughts of that nature if the pinched look and scowl he received were any indication.

He continued on. "We shall just continue on as normal, and prepare for any situation that may arise when the news spreads."

After that, a heavy silence enveloped the room's occupants. Finally, Minerva brought up the pink elephant in the room.

"Severus, what are you thoughts on tonight's events?"

He looked at her for a moment before speaking in a soft tone. "He is truly Harry Potter?"

Knowing the conversation would be difficult from this point on, Dumbledore spoke up,"Yes, my boy. He is truly Harry Potter, found again after many years."

The younger took his time to word the question properly. "And you both knew of him for some time?" his eyes became piercing here "What do you know?"

The two elder professors looked their age at that moment.

Dumbledore spoke to the man, giving him a thorough explanation of the events some weeks ago. The man sat quietly, barely showing a minimal reaction to some of the information he was presented with.

The boy was completely different than Severus had ever imagined him. He had, at first through bitterness, imagined a young imitation of James Potter, the scourge. But, as time went by, he could begin to think that maybe the boy would have held more of Lily's, the name bringing pain to him even in thought, features and gorgeous, entrancing eyes.

But no, the boy held features of both his parents and some foreign to either. If he was honest with himself in the privacy of his mind, then he would admit that the boy was striking, the only word that fit the atypical child. The boy actually reminded him of a younger Black with his aristocratic bone structure and wavy, black hair.

The eyes were mystifying and haunting at the same time. Green, unlike his mother's precious emerald, were bright and pale. They were innocent, yet held knowledge and strength that belied the young age. A contradiction at its finest.

Deciding he had been quiet for long enough, he brought up the one more alarming piece of information, his familiar.

"The boy's familiar...is Nagini? There will be consequences of the highest order if any of the old sycophants were to gain wind of this. Though, that ship will have sailed at this point if my Slytherin's have seen the creature." His voice ended as dry as aged paper.

And wasn't that just perfect? The recently resurrected saviour will be, he grimaced, in the company of those who would most likely be the first marked when the Dark Lord returned from his current exile.

Oh yes, he, just as the others in the office, knew quite a bit about Tom Riddle's quest for the unobtainable.

What had the psychopath been thinking when delving into Black Magick? Had he been so arrogant to think that the demons he consorted with would not be able to defy his orders? Foolish. His skin crawled at the pure insanity that was required to perform the rituals needed.

Gaining control of his derailed thoughts, he took a deep breath and spoke. "Before you ask me anything Albus, know that I shall do what I must to protect the child." His eyes bored into the Headmaster's, giving weight to the declaration as they were the only ones in-the-know of his circumstances of leniency. The older man caught his intention, if the almost nonexistent nod that was shown was any indication.

The three sat again in the quiet that had plagued them many times that night, knowing that times ahead of them would be troubling. But as they began to discuss other things both about the school and outside, all knew that the future was infinitely brighter than it had been.

All because of one enigma of a boy.

* * *

It had been one month from the time classes began, and Harry was pleased with himself that both his school work and, erm, extracurricular activities had been going smoothly, especially with the aid of his unexpected tutor.

Meeting the old founder had been a double-edged sword if he were to be asked. The man knew the intricacies of the family magic more than any other minor source he had found in the scarce tomes on the subject back home. Parseltongue was so much more diverse than he had realised, it having aspects that encompassed all three areas of the Grey Magick. The light magic abilities allowing a form of healing that was used in conjecture to a serpent conjured using the parselmouth's magic.

The neutral magic gave the spoken language itself, though that was all it did, and the dark magic giving the ability to hold dominion over all snakes and serpentine reptiles.

There were, sadly, no _spells_ per se, as the magic was truly about intent. So, only a word spoken in the language with true intent allowed the magic to be used at all.

However, as much as he enjoyed learning from the man, he was acerbic and cruel. He truly did despise muggleborns, because in his time they were nothing more, usually, than 'uneducated fools' in his words. When he had found about about Harry's mother's lineage, he had been incensed that the holder of his legacy was not pure.

Cruel indeed.

It mattered little to Harry, who had long since learned a spell to block his ears from sounds. The man's vitriol amused him more than anything, as he couldn't retaliate properly with the portrait holding dominion over the wards and a substantial amount of magic too.

Still, other than that he had been focusing on learning more about Hermione and his other current targets, Professor Snape and Theodore Nott.

The Slytherins typically had classes with the Ravenclaws, meaning he had been able to learn that both of his current interests, student-wise, were incredibly intelligent, much like himself. Apparently Nott held none of his father's views, making him come to he and Hermione during a study session in the library, asking to join. Though he wasn't going to trust the boy totally, he was in the house of cunning after all.

The boy was tall, lanky, and brunett. His eyes were cornflower blue and continually bored. His bored mask didn't, however, take away from the dry wit and snarky comments that had both he and Hermione in stitches.

Hermione had the typical genius attitude, meaning she was extremely competitive with others who threatened her place as number one in the class standings. His own backstory and life was more than interesting as he could infer from the scholastic, and lightly mad-scientist, expressions whenever he spoke about his life growing up or the Sanctuary.

Professor Snape was a puzzle within a riddle for all he could learn from the man, his expression blanked so thoroughly that he appeared to be a mannequin. If the rumors of the other students was to be believed, then the man was acting completely different this year, his previous behavior being snarky and somewhat hateful, but he had seen none of that in any of his observations during class or not.

These thoughts ran through his mind as he prepared to leave D.A.D.A. and prepare for potions, hoping to find something new today about the mysterious man.

"Mr. Potter, a word if you would?" He looked up from his bookbag at the person who had spoken.

However, there was one problem that was bothering him.

The current Defense Against the Dark Arts professor worried him immensely. Her eyes were sharp, a dark yellow that put him and his two -dare he say- friends on guard the whole time they were around her. Dirty-blonde hair fell pin-straight down to the small of her back, her skin so pale that her veins could be seen if one looked hard enough.

Professor Smith was someone he had decided to avoid at all costs, as there were times when she would stare at him and Hermione with this uncharacteristic glint of possessiveness and hunger. He shivered just imagining what ran through the military-strict woman's mind during those times. He had an inkling as to why the mother of one of his classmates laid her attention with the two of them, and it would confirm some of the theories he had at the time. He just didn't want to risk it until he had more information.

It seemed he wasn't going to be given the choice of avoiding her anymore.

He donned his pack, before shooting Theo and Hermione a quick smile to alleviate their worried expressions. He stepped up to the waiting woman as the door closed behind him, desperately wishing Nagini was with him for support as the woman's usually stern mouth quirked into a knowing smirk that set him on edge

"There are things we must discuss, my fellow heir."

His stomach dropped.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I claim ownership of anything that I write about which is previously claimed by J.K. Rowling. I am writing this piece of fiction solely for the purpose of writing and am gaining nothing from this in the way of compensation.**

 **Hello there! This is the second chapter of the day, so enjoy!**

 **- _Parseltongue-_**

* * *

The woman stepped towards him, even as his mind blanked to prevent him from giving anything away. He pulled his magic out of its reservoirs and let it begin to swirl through his body in preparation for anything that may happen. She looked slightly amused as he did so, most likely noticing the faint aura he exuded whenever he did this.

Her smirk grew slightly, here eyes retaining the faint amusement. "Now, now, there's no reason to be so tense." She flicked her wrist, causing a light shimmer to form on the walls "Now those two friends of yours won't be eavesdropping so easily."

He mentally cursed, so it had been a silencing barrier she had erected. Though he did tense lightly at the casual display of wandless magic, a discipline that was unbearably difficult to master to a degree to do what she had done.

Coming to a stop a couple feet from him, her playful, yet dangerous expression closed off to one he was far more familiar with.

"There are things that we must discuss concerning the school, things that only heirs and heiresses of the Founders can truly understand." She turned on a heel and strode off towards a door at the back of the room, a hand gesturing to follow.

He did so, ending up in an office that was decorated in the Hufflepuff colors tastefully, though it wasn't as grand as some of the rooms he had seen. She sat behind her desk and pulled her wand from her long sleeve as he sat, making him pause and eye her keenly.

She rolled her eyes at him, before tapping a sequence of taps on a kettle set on the edge of the desk, swishing her wand afterwards to make china appear for the tea she planned for them to have.

The silence was thick, as he sat stiffly in his chair under the solid mustard stare. It was broken by the whistling of the kettle, which make her turn her focus to preparing the refreshments.

As he took his tea to his liking, he focused all attention on her while releasing his Occlumency to give him more room to think. She must have noticed his slight shift in demeanor for she took a deliberate sip before setting the cup into its saucer.

"I must assume that you realise who I am, and by extension, know that I realise who you are?" Her tone was hard to read, guarded but neutral.

He simply nodded, so she spoke again. "Then there is no need to beat around the bush as they say. I have been waiting for years for another heir with strong enough connections to their familial magic to return to this school, as there are situation that require more than one her or heiress to handle alone."

He looked at her quizzically. "What situations are there that require our attention, then?" His voice was tight with tension.

She seemed to wilt slightly in exhaustion, surprising him as he had never seen the woman without a straight back and stiff shoulders. "If you know who you are, then you must know of the background of our ancestors." He nodded. "Then you must also know of the great conflict that ended their alliance some years after the opening of Hogwarts."

Again he nodded, wondering where she was taking this. She continued on. "I can guess who your family is based on your house-" He decided to throw her and gain an advantage in this situation he found himself in.

"Actually no, I am not descended from Salazar Slytherin, though we had a common ancestor. I am of Godric, Lady Smith" He felt satisfaction when her eyes widened, but was surprised when her expression brightened considerably.

He looked at her curiously, which she noticed and gave a slight smile. "I know who the Gaunt family ran through, Mr. Potter. I acted so cooly with you because I assumed you may have been associated with him in some way, his attack against your family or not." She finished grimly.

He grimaced, bristling in his mind, at the thought that he and Voldemort had any connection past their past ancestors. He shot her a dirty look, which just made her raise a dry eyebrow in his direction,

"What? There were only so many conclusions I could jump to given your house placement and what it typically means to those who are heirs." He nodded grudgingly at that, his magical reappearance in the world probably not aiding his case with his fellow heir, heiress in her case.

And hadn't that been fun? His inner sarcasm reared its head. The day after the tiring reveal in the common room had been explosive to say the least. The students, and some of the staff from the looks Flitwick gave him, treated him as if he were the cure for Hag's rash, looking at him with reverence.

Well, they looked at him that way until they saw the green crest and tie, remembering where he was sorted the previous night. Then they gave his the expected apprehension.

The paper was just as annoying as he had expected it to be. Some woman named Skeeter had ran this list of conspiracy theories ranging from abduction by Dumbledore, to suckling Morgana's evil teet. It hadn't helped that he could feel eyes heavily resting upon him, only to look up and see Weasley-the-youngest giving him a shady look over a mangled sausage.

Desiring to get away from those thoughts before he delved into the horror of meeting Cornelius Fudge, he brought his focus on the woman who was silently studying him.

"There is a reason for my placement, but I won't reveal more without an oath of secrecy." He laid it out nice and clear to the practical stranger who'd given him no reason to trust her.

Her wand was in-hand almost immediately after he stopped speaking, touching the spot above her heart, the main magical reservoir.

"I, Nikita Smith, hereby vow myself to secrecy regarding all information given to my by Harry Potter in confidence. This I swear by the Ancient Majik." As this was said, a thin string of magic was shown connecting the spaces above their hearts, sealing the ancient bond of oath-bearer and oath-receiver.

Putting her wand on the desk, she looked at him in all seriousness of the given circumstances. "As you can see, I speak the truth when I say that I require your aid. I've been waiting too many years to allow this opportunity to bypass me."

As shocked as he was at her instant compliance to an offhanded remark, he took it is stride, knowing it must be serious if she was this eager.

He nodded, before going on to explain the circumstances of the night of the attack and his heirship of his two houses, his holding of all of the family magic. Throughout his explanation, he watched her face go through different expressions ranging from shock to incredulity.

He gave her time to think through the revelations, waiting to see what she would do with the information. She looked down at her desk in contemplation before nodding once, seemingly to herself.

Looking up, she spoke again. "Then we are in luck." At his questioning look, she replied with some excitement in her eyes. "All four of the houses have heirs and heiresses at the school."

He studied her for a moment before responding. "Hermione..."

She nodded, looking pleased. "Yes, I believe Miss Granger to be Ravenclaw's, or Dagworth-Granger's, heiress. But she seems to not have realised this from what i have observed, not to mention her magical aura is much lighter than one who would hold the power of such powerful family magic."

He nodded, understanding and thinking the same with his own conclusions.

He spoke this time. "For her to access the connection she possess, she would have to believe herself to be the heiress." Here he looked mildly annoyed. "But, she has a slight inferiority complex due to years of being belittled by others from what she's told me. Getting her to actually, truly believe it would be difficult."

Now she looked mildly annoyed, most likely thinking this an obstacle towards her, currently unknown, plans.

"You'll have to work with her on that front; she's totally terrified by me." She sighed. "But it is fortunate that the Headmaster knows of your situation. With him, when she does believe and open the connection to the magic, he will be able to allow us to travel to Gringotts to perform the testing ceremony."

He hummed in agreement, but he knew that it would be a tedious process given the fact that their friendship was still rather new and fragile. He'd have to be delicate in approach and practice if he didn't want to alienate her and ruin her chances.

He focused on the professor again, thinking of something that slightly confused him.

"Does Zacharias have such differing features than you because his gender disallows him the titles of the family name?" It would make sense as to why she didn't allow him to be the one to approach Harry.

She looked startled for a moment at the abrupt change in topic, but then nodded tiredly. "Yes, and the disappointment of it has left him bitter and resentful of others who are heirs to old families. Though, he still holds the arrogance of our family name, causing quite a bit of trouble with others and isolating himself."

He felt slightly bad for the woman, losing a bit of his wariness in the face of such open honesty. He decided to get to the whole point of this conversation which needed to end soon before his friends called in the cavalry, thinking she was doing terrible things to him in body or mind or both. The minds of pre-teens were quite imaginative, as he knew quite well.

He cleared his throat, before he spoke. "What is it that required you to approach me? It seemed very urgent earlier and we are straining our time." She grimaced in realization that this conversation had gone on longer than she realized.

She straightened into a more rigid posture, which he was more used to. "I didn't believe it before now, but you have confirmed it for me. Voldemort" He was surprised at the name, given the general reaction to the resident boogeyman. "is out there, meaning that it is entirely possible that he will rise to power before he can be found and destroyed in his weakened, bodiless state. The wards and protections around and in the school can only be strengthened when two or more of the heirs are here. Though, with all four represented here, we have a greater ability to do so."

Her eyes gained a hateful, desperate edge to them, startling him. "That monster will _not_ enter this school full of innocents; he will not. Harm. My. Son. I lost my beloved husband, my Richard, to the creature, and I won't lose anyone else, these children that and colleagues that I've grown to care for included."

"That is why I need you, and Miss Granger now, to help me. With all four of us, he won't stand a chance!"

And he knew in that moment, that he had just gained a valuable ally, maybe even a friend.

* * *

When he finally exited the classroom, he was instantly harassed by a babbling Hermione, a stoic Theo looking at him intensely. He managed to calm Hermione enough for him to tell her that Professor Smith just wanted to speak to him about his essay, where they got caught up in a discussion about what they were currently learning.

Neither of the two looked like they bought it, but they gave it up for the moment as they had very little time to make it to Potions, having spent their small break outside and inside the classroom respectively. They walked briskly towards the dungeons from the third floor, entering the classroom just moments before Professor Snape came out of a door near the back of the room, presumably his office.

The class passed by quickly with them learning the properties of and steps to the tongue-swelling solution, apparently good in low-level combat to prevent vocal casting.

The three headed out to the edge of the lake where they cast liberal warming charms around the area, the cold of October chilling them. They sat around, doing homework and chatting almost automatically, their minds all on different things, Harry the new information he had about the Hufflepuff heiress, the other two about their friend's, and Theo thought that was an amazing word to connect to himself and another, strange attitude from earlier.

Finally the typically silent boy decided to bring it up as casually as he could, which was as opaque to the two who knew him the best that it was laughable. Harry sighed, before deciding that he could trust them with some information, not only to sate their curiosity but to strengthen their bonds as well.

He looked at the two, staring into their eyes meaningfully. "Before we begin, I'm going to need an oath of privacy." He said privacy because it was less restricting than an oath of secrecy, which would rend the magic of an oath-breaker from their body, an experience similar to the Dementor's kiss.

While Hermione looked confused, as he expected, and Theo looked at him with more intensity in his usually blank or bored gaze than he'd seen before, which was also expected.

Hermione noticed the heavy look in Theo's eyes and spoke up. "What is a privacy oath? Is it similar to an unbreakable vow?" She looked at Harry suspiciously at that, knowing how serious such magic was, how dangerous.

Harry looked at her. "No, they aren't very similar. An oath and a vow are two different pieces of magic, one far more sinister. The only vow known is the unbreakable vow, which is a totally binding magical contract. Should it be broken, its punishment is..."

She whispered softly. "Death"

He nodded solemnly. "True, but an oath is different in the fact that it is breakable by the oath-receiver, and the consequences are much less severe, though still harsh, based on the level of the oath."

Theo took over next. "An oath of privacy is vowed upon one's honor. If they break it, then they will never be trusted by anyone ever again, even those who would trust you implicitly." He never once broke his stare towards Harry.

Harry, again, nodded solemnly, as the weight of the information she they were asking for hit her as it had Theo.

There was silent contemplation by the two, before they both reluctantly decided that they wished to hear it and made the oath, Hermione being guided by Theo's example.

Harry knew he couldn't reveal everything yet, as he knew Hermione wouldn't have the skills necessary to prevent legilimency yet, though Theo might. So he decided to go with the basics, well basic to him.

And so, he told them.

* * *

That night, sitting in his shared dorm with the other first year boys sans Harry, he contemplated the information he'd been too shocked to truly comprehend earlier.

The Dark Lord was still alive.

He was likely going to return to full strength relatively soon.

He was immortal due to, he shivered, Black Magick.

He was likely going to go after Harry in revenge, and thus his friends, including him.

This all raced through his mind, as this information was extremely relevant to him for the future. Not only was he the friend, something he'd always wished for secretly, of possibly the main target of an insane Warlock, but he might be forced into joining his ranks in the future.

The bile suddenly felt like it was trying to escape his throat; he swallowed it back.

Even though it was never explicitly mentioned, the Dark propaganda had been a heavy influence on his home life. His father was never convicted, using the same excuse as many other Lords and purebloods, but Theo knew his father was a loyal Death Eater. His mother, praise her strength, had always come to him after his father's grand speeches about the family and their superiority over others, calming him and delivering rational arguments against her husbands sermon. She had been the one to practically raise him, instead of his father's attempts to groom him into the proper heir.

She was the one who taught him to follow his instincts to keep himself safe and aware, to never allow another to dictate his decisions. He could imagine his father's wrath had he ever found out about his wife's 'betrayal'.

What would he do with the information he gained today? It wasn't as if he had any external resources or outstanding power to use to his gain, so what were his options?

He already knew the answer before the question finished forming.

He had been saved from his pit of loneliness that he had found himself sinking deeper into during his second week. His second week of others using false compliments and platitudes to try and gain favor with his esteemed family. His second week of contemplating taking his own life to escape the fathomless ache that resounded through him at the sight of others in the same situation as he, meer puppets for their similarly puppet fathers. Artificial, cold, unfeeling, the emotionless mask he was forced to wear to keep under his father's suspicion was forcing him into the black slowly but surely.

Then Harry Potter finessed his way into his life like a seasoned professional.

Of course he was interested in the phenomenon of the deceased hero miraculously returning to life, joining the house of his families murderer none-the-less. The boy was obviously talented from the ease at which his magic responded to his every whim, and he was startlingly attractive with the classic features of the Greeks and the coloring of a noble. HIs slight accent and otherworldly eyes gave him new facets that seemed to make up the mystery child to be a fascinating, undiscovered gem found shaped to perfection naturally.

And he decided, ceremoniously, that plain, boring, Theodore Nott was going to be his friend.

Of course, it was he that started their contact on that night in the library, but that was just his curiosity getting the better of him at seeing the famous boy chatting with the genius muggleborn.

It had been the best decision of his short life.

Harry had taken him into his small circle of friends, which was a place many wanted to be but were too afraid to approach the seemingly unapproachable. But now that Theo was there, he had found a breath of fresh hope that had slowly lulled him out of his depressed state. His new friend, _friend_ , was unlike anything he'd seen before. He held the cunning of their house, the work ethic of the 'Puffs, the attitude when in private of the lions, and the intelligence of a 'Claw.

He was everything that a friend could be to Theo, matching him pace for pace with Granger keeping up admirably with her lack of magical background.

And now he would be a place to hide from the demons of his future, a place that Theo could defend if necessary when the times got rough. He would be, and is, Theo's rock, so he would and will always choose Harry Potter.

It would be his biggest regret if he didn't.

* * *

Harry was walking along with Nagini through the halls before curfew, having rarely gotten to spend time with his beloved friend outside the Slytherin common room and his chambers. She seemed to be enjoying the feeling of the magically-warmed stone on he soft underside. He snorted at the pleased sounds she was making, he not even caring about his cheek when she was finally able to come outside for the first time in a while.

They were on the second floor when they passed by a doorway that made Nagini stop in her tracks. Looking at her still position and wildly-scenting tongue, he knew she had sensed something here. She startled slightly, looking awkward for the large snake, but she began to hiss excitedly, heading through the slight opening from the ajar door.

Going in after her, wanting to see what had her in such an unusual state, he realized that she had led him into what looked to be a bathroom.

A female bathroom.

Color faintly dusting his pale cheeks, he was about to hiss at her that they needed to leave, before he heard her over by a set of sink vanities.

- _Hatchling! Hatchling! You mussst come here quickly! I have remembered sssomething importaint.-_

Not wanting to disagree with her as he trusted her judgment, he followed around to where Nagini had risen her large head to focus intently on the tap of one of the sinks. Following her gaze, he saw the smallest carving of a snake etched into the side. Intrigued, he turned to her.

 _-What isss it Nagini? What isss imprtant about thisss sssnake?-_

She looked to be nearly frozen with how still her body had become, worrying him slightly. - _It isss a lock.-_ That confused him.

 _-A lock? A lock for what?-_

She turned towards him slowly, before responding. _-The entrance to the Chamber of Sssecretsss.-_

He was floored. The Chamber of Secrets

What?

HIs thoughts went into overdrive as his own excitement grew to tremendous heights. Salazar had completely refused to tell him the entrance to the infamous mystery chamber of the founder, neither denying its existence nor proving it. He was going to thoroughly enjoy rubbing this in the sour man's face after all the dung he'd been spewing. He had the sudden urge to cackle, but held it in.

Deciding to get to the point, which was opening the entrance, he turned to his companion and asked the most important question.

 _-How do we open it?-_

 _-Command it to open in our language. You mussst wisssh it to be open for it to do ssso.-_ Well that was straight forward enough.

He took in a breath at this monumental occasion, before speaking the simple command.

 _-Open!-_

After a moment, in which he was about to become severely disappointed, a great grinding noise of stone on stone was heard as the sink lowered into the ground, the others expanding outwards to make space. As he was about to ask if it was seriously a drainage pipe, Nagini had already slithered in with him only catching sight of the end of her tail leaving the edge.

Deciding that she had been here before, so she would know how to enter it safely, he followed her by jumping down, never seeing the transparent figure watching from over the edge of one of the cubicles.

* * *

After cursing his familiar for not warning him of his less that hygienic, or safe for that matter, trip down the pipe, he and she made their way by a shed skin that sent adrenaline through his system just at the sight of such a large shed.

They came upon a door, much like one would see in a vault, at which he hissed the same command from earlier. His heartbeat kicked up a few paces as the metal serpent unlocked the door on its journey, said door creaking open loudly into a dark room.

It was breath-taking.

Columns stood everywhere, covered in carvings and paintings of different snakes, statues of a similar manner were everywhere. There was also a disturbing statue of what seemed to be an older, much uglier Salazar that made him freeze in his tracks.

It was probably the funniest thing he had ever seen, and he could only imagine how he could torment the portrait with the knowledge that his likeness bore more resemblance to a monkey that Salazar himself. But that was beside the point.

He was here to see the Basilisk.

He could only imagine how large it would be after one-thousand years of constant growth. The only Basilisks he had seen were either statues or pictures, so he was getting slightly hyper at the prospect. He was, after all, and animal lover and tamer at heart.

That was another reason he had wanted to see the Basilisk; to see if his power over the Gaunt magic allowed him control over the beast or if it had been tied into loyalty some by other means.

Thinking out loud, he spoke in parseltongue without noticing, the ability activating in the face of so many serpents. - _How do I get to it?-_

He was broken from those thoughts by the sound of stone grinding again, only this time it was the base of the statue opening. All thoughts were wiped from his mind by the sight of a snake exiting the opening, its size causing him to stare in pure shock and awe. He realized he should have felt fear, but this was just too amazing for him-

- _Who are you, sssnake-child?-_

He was startled by a deep, masculine voice hissing out to him that _sounded_ ancient.

Looking up into poisonous-yellow eyes, he knew that he'd just made his own year.

Harry grinned.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I claim ownership of anything that I write about which is previously claimed by J.K. Rowling. I am writing this piece of fiction solely for the purpose of writing and am gaining nothing from this in the way of compensation.**

 _ **-Parseltongue-**_

* * *

The creature of legend didn't disappoint Harry in its majesty. Forest-green scales glittered in the low light of the sconces that lined ancient walls, a red plume arching its way down a tree-trunk neck. Acidic-yellow eyes burned with the intensity of the magic that only one of its age and power could, staring at him with what he assumed was curiosity.

It was larger than anything he'd expected. Daring a quick glance at its body, he realized it must be nearly thirty meters long.

He could see Nagini bowing her head in submission before the magnificent myth, showing humility he thought her incapable of. The large tongue shot out of an even larger mouth, scenting him and Nagini in an attempt to get a read on them.

He bowed his head lightly, still meeting the gaze of the Basilisk. - _I am known asss Harissson Potter, great ssserpent. May I know what you are called?-_

It blinked languidly, its demeanor showing great indifference. He mentally berated himself. Parseltongue protecting him from the penetrating gaze or not, it could still kill him rather easily with a single nick of fang. He was pretty sure that Nagini was having an internal conniption for _daring_ to ask its name.

- _You hold the sssame majik asss my creator, youngling. Are you one of Sssalazar'sss dessscendentsss?-_

Grateful for it to have dismissed his cheek, he slowly took in a breath. Time to see if it would turn hostile.

- _No. I hold the magic of Ssslytherin and the Gauntsss becaussse the lassst member of the houssse attacked me in cold blood. My magic asss the lassst heir of Godric called for blood retribution in retaliation. I gained the title of Heir-Lord Gaunt and the magic through thisss.-_ He willed his magic to churn in anticipation of a negative reaction as he spoke.

Its eyes sharpened into a predatory glare, and he could see the formerly placid magic in the death stare ignite into a maelstrom of heady power. It lasted only a few seconds before the creature allowed its gaze to return to its previous state.

- _I sssenssse no deceit in your wordsss, youngling. I ssshall make my own judgementsss-_

Harry sighed slightly through his nose before he rose from his bow, noticing that Nagini had as well. He decided to leave her be, as her demeanor was distinctly off-putting. Then again, she was in the presence of her king for all that it mattered.

Under the watchful Basilisk, he realised he'd never been given its name after he asked, he decided to wander around the cavernous chamber. Walking along the walls, he tried to feel anything that was connected to the Gaunt magic or any hidden inscriptions or indicators that something more lied within, but he was left slightly disappointed by the lack on any, well, secrets. He realised the name could have been alluding to the unknown creature it supposedly held, but that thought felt empty to him.

It could have just been the teenager in him wishing to explore, though.

Deciding that he would ask the yet-identified Basilisk once he got to know it on a more personal level, he headed towards the entrance.

The door closed behind him with a slam.

* * *

Harry was sitting on his bed in the hidden dorm, absently patting Nagini's scales. He hadn't expected to see her, wondering how she had gotten to his room after he knew he'd left her behind with the Basilisk. Apparently it had told her of an entrance to the Chamber that was hidden by another false wall. Salazar that smug arse hadn't felt the need to tell him...

The thought drifted away as quickly as it came, leaving him to think over Slytherin House in general.

Theo had been an unexpected, yet completely appreciated help when it came to getting his foot in the door with many of the others who were either too weary by his connection to Salazar and Nagini or patronising of his bloodline.

He snorted at that, thinking of all the pomp and class he had to present himself with in their presence, the skill that he had to wield his magic with before they were even close to considering the thought of listening to his ideas. They might have been interested in his clout as an heir, but a large part of his appeal from the opening feast had dwindled when they realised he wasn't anyone's fool.

There was also the small fact that he was sure the snakes knew about his two houses, as much as they could given the limited information available. After a week or so of them treating him with wariness or curiosity not dissimilar to an insect under a microscope, there came a lul in which none dared approach him for any reason whatsoever.

Well, knowing that many of their parents were at the very least sympathizers and the common knowledge of Voldemort's connection to Salazar matching his connection to the Gaunts, he'd probably do the same in their position.

One small inconvenience, however reluctant to use that term, was Hermione.

She was a wonderful person who had a mind that terrified him. He could imagine what she could have done had she been given a different lot in life with a different blood status. The mere thought of her ravenous brain giving him shivers with its ability to absorb all knowledge, especially magical.

Thinking back on Hermione a little more, he realised that he was going to have to work hard to be able to get her ready to accept the position she was in. Getting her to accept her family magic would be easy, only requiring her to go to Gringotts and access her ring.

No, the real difficulty was convincing her to actually hold steady to the belief that she was who he and Nikita claimed.

After a few moments of silence, just staring blankly with his thoughts, a small ping in the wards alerted him to the fact that someone was standing outside of Salazar's portrait in the common room, Theo apparently.

Curious, Harry stood to the displeasure of Nagini, and walked to stand before the mirror that showed what was on the other side of the portrait, the mirror being the exit to the rooms.

Theo looked terrible, shaking slightly and paler than he usually was. His eyes though are what got Harry to react immediately, wide and frantic with the pupil shrunk in terror.

He reached through, grabbing Theo's arm and forcefully dragging the boy through to him. He was just glad that it was night time and everyone else was in their dorms by now.

"Theo?"

Theo's head snapped to him, and before Harry could react, he was besieged by the trembling boy, being held against him as he felt tears leak through to his night-shirt.

Startled by the seriously out-of-character actions of his friend, he gently pried himself away and led him by the hand over to the sofa by the fireplace. As they sat there he took a deep breath and decided to get to the point of the matter.

He put one hand on Theo's shoulder and looked deeply into the other boy's eyes. "What's going on Theo? What's wrong?"

Theo shocked him by letting out a choked sob, before reaching into his breast pocket on his night-shirt and retrieving a piece of parchment. He clutched it tightly to his chest, letting out another strangled sob before holding it out to him with and increasingly trembling hand.

Curiosity mixing in with his worry, and small panic at these unexpected actions, he gently took the parchment and unfolded it, noticing with some horror the small splatters of blood on the bottom right corner.

 _My dearest Theodore,_

 _I send you this in the hopes that you will receive it before your father finds me. He, my little Theo, he found out about my, OUR, plans to leave, to hide._

 _He went into a rage unlike anything I've ever seen before...It was hideous, his face contorted into a look that his former master would have approved of._

 _Please, Theo please. Take anything you have with you, call Minty and have her collect all of your possessions from the manor. Leave, when the school year ends you must run, hide, find any way to stay away from your father. His own words were not good for you my beloved son._

 _No matter what happens, you must flee, live, enjoy life and make your own path like I've always told you._

 _He is almost here, I must hurry for the temporary wards I've placed are beginning to fail. I love you Theo, more than you could ever realise with all of my heart._

 _My baby boy..._

The letter ended there, and he felt himself go slightly numb to the world around him. Looking to where Theo sat on his left, it seemed he had gone slightly catatonic, staring blankly into nothing as tears continued to flow unimpeded down his cheeks, his body motionless as a mannequin.

He had no idea what to do with this information. He had no idea what to do, having never dealt with a situation like this before in his, admittedly, sheltered and reclusive upbringing. Deciding that talking it out, like he did with Nagini to understand any issues he might have, would be the best course of action.

He set the letter on the small end table by his side, turning to Theo again. Taking Theo's hands, he took in a breath to steady himself before speaking gently.

"Theo, I need you to look at me okay? Look at me, and tell me what's going on."

Theo turned towards him almost mechanically, his eyes still blank. When he spoke, it was in a deadened whisper so different than the solid, sarcastic voice he was used to he had to suppress a flinch.

"She's dead, Harry." his voice cracked a little "She's dead and it's because of me."

Harry took a deep breath and asked one more question.

"Why do you think it's your fault?" He questioned as gently as he could given the situation.

He didn't expect Theo to drag him into an embrace, to sob out a story of his life growing up, but as he did Harry became both enraged and sickened. Who could do that to their own child? Who could do that to their wife for some asinine belief that she had 'betrayed' him.

It made sense of some other things that he'd noticed in their short friendship, why the slightly taller boy was so clingy sometimes, why he was always more attentive than Hermione when Harry spoke. Harry was the only person he had left in the world now who truly cared for him. Sighing, Harry gave the boy a tight hug before sitting back on the sofa and looking directly at him, though Theo's eyes were downcast.

Taking hold of Theo's chin, he forced him to look into his eyes, to see what he was about to say was true.

"I know this is sudden, especially after what you learned tonight..." he cleared his throat "But I'd like you to consider an offer I'm going to make, okay?"

Theo just nodded slightly, looking so lost it made something in Harry's chest ache.

"You won't be safe to go home now," Theo choked back a sob, making Harry grimace in sympathy "so I'd like to offer you to come live with me at my family manor once school ends this June." There, he'd laid it out for Theo to take if he wished.

Theo jerked back slightly at the unexpected offer before his eyes shuttered. He bit his lip, seemingly in indecision. He looked at Harry with a sad, bitter smile.

"No. Harry, I-I can't move in with you. I ca-can't p-put you in danger like that. You're all I have left. I got my mother killed, and I won't do the same thing to you, I couldn't take it!" He shook his head vehemently at that last sentence.

Deciding to nip that problem in the bud, as he'd dealt with a similar crisis when he'd learned that Voldemort had gone after _him_ and he'd been the only one of his family to survive.

He shook his head slowly before gripping Theo's shoulders in a tight hold, making the other wince. "No Theo. The night that Voldemort came after me-" Theo made a startled noise in the back of his throat "I'll explain later. But even though I survived, do you think my parents who died to protect me would want me to blame myself, to take away the love of their sacrifice?

Theo shook his head absently, making Harry smile a small smile. "Then why do you think it's okay to take away the love of your mother's sacrifice in the same way?"

The other boy looked torn for a moment, before he laughed a pained, slightly hysterical laugh. He dragged Harry into his arms once more, to the other's slight chagrin, but Harry accepted it when Theo leaned in next to his ear and whispered "Yes"

The two boys stayed curled up on the sofa for the rest of the night, one comforting and the other taking comfort. They eventually fell asleep, where Nagini draped herself comfortingly around her hatchling and the other nestling.

Marigold Nott nee Greengrass smiled down on her son and his friend, gently floating over to kiss each on the forehead once. As the boys shivered slightly, cuddling together more to ward off perceived cold, she smiled mischievously. As she disappeared, the only things left behind was the sound of bell-like laughter.

* * *

The next few weeks were different to say the least, in Harry's opinion.

He'd gone back to the Chamber a few more times, now that he knew of the entrance in his room, and spoke more with the Basilisk, still unnamed, to try and learn anything new. Well, he learned that the creature had a dry wit and biting tongue to match anyone else, usually leaving him breathless in laughter. It also was the best storyteller, weaving tales of adventure and drama, action and suspense, the stories of the times of the Founders.

The time he spent with Nikita, Niki as she'd insisted, was beneficial for both of them, as she knew more about the castle and its mysteries than he did, him having more political weight to add to their plans when they would commence.

She was as strict as she usually was in class, making no room for any perceived nonsense, but there was hardly any time for anything like that when they both got deep into planning reform and restructuring for the school of their ancestors.

The biggest difference, that even others could see, was how Theo interacted with him. Before, he'd been clingy in the sense of time and attention he received from Harry, but now it was literally hard to find him not within a couple feet from the black-haired boy. There was also the literal hugging that went on in Harry's room at night now that Theo stayed there permanently.

After the death of his mother, which still makes him slightly upset even if he was getting better with time, the other boys had decided that he was perfect material for their acidic comments and hateful words. When Theo had come to him one morning with red-rimmed eyes and tear tracks on his cheeks, Harry had taken no time to have him set up in his room with another bed. Though that bed still was barely used, as Theo liked to cuddle him when they slept to ward off nightmares and seek comfort.

They were currently sitting at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, enjoying the feast and atmosphere that the spooky decorations made. He made to grab one more slice of treacle tart, his guilty pleasure, when all the noise died down. Looking up at what was wrong, he was surprised to see a misty, smokey white and blue bear standing before the Headmaster, before it began to speak.

'There has been an attack on Diagon Alley. One-hundred enemies in Death Eater garb have set it ablaze with Fiendfyre. We need immediate backup Professor. I repeat, one-hundred suspected Death Eaters are attacking Diagon Alley.'

You could hear a pin drop in the ensuing silence before screams and shouts broke out through the room in the panic that statement caused. He held his ears slightly with a wince as Professor Dumbledore stood shooting off something akin to purple fireworks from his wand.

He held said wand to his throat before his voice boomed out around us. "Attention students. I must attend to this immediately, but you shall all be safe. The other professors shall stay here with you in the Great Hall tonight as the castle shall be sealed off from exterior threats. Please follow the directions of your Heads of House. Thank you."

He pulled out a pendant from underneath his robe as it hung from his neck, showing a silver colored Phoenix in flight. He tapped his wand to it and muttered something before the pendant flashed a deep blue. He nodded at his fellow professors before doing the impossible, disapparating inside of Hogwarts.

His mind raced furiously as he thought of what this could mean. Had Voldemort regained a body already? Had the Death Eaters decided to cause havoc for no other reason than to do so? Were they even Death Eaters?

The professors all stood and began to seal the door, making it disappear completely from view as though it melded into the walls. The windows behind the professor's table also slowly began to meld into the walls, leaving no entrance for anyone to gain access tot he room and its students.

Order was quickly called again, and the feast returned to normal, well as normal as it could be in this situation.

When the feast had ended, the professors waved their wands at the tables, making them vaish. McGonagall then muttered a spell that filled the hall with sleeping bags, meaning they would be staying the night here. He grabbed one in a corner, which was quickly followed by Hermione and Theo, as they decided to speak to each other.

Hermione was nibbling on her bottom lip, obviously worried at the presence of the muggle and muggleborn hating terrorists. Theo was stone-face, his hands clenched into fists so tight that his knuckles turned white. Harry was about to say something to reassure them, but he felt a subtle twitch in the magic of the castle.

 _'-Boy, there isss sssomething going on with the wardsss.-'_

He jerked back, startling his two friends. ' _-Sssalazar?-'_

He heard a derisive snort in his mind. '- _Yesss, you foolisssh child. But that isss not important! Sssomething isss attempting to breach the wardsss.-'_

Harry felt the color in his face drain quickly, making he two others even more worried than before. He stood quickly, gaining attention across the hall, before he hurriedly made his way towards McGonagall.

She took notice of his worried face and pallid color instantly, motioning Professor Snape over as well.

He quickly stood in front of her, not giving her any time to react. He whispered, "Professor, can you make a silence barrier around us? Please, it's urgent." She looked startled, but nodded in compliance.

When the are was secure enough, he hurriedly explained at her and Snape's looks.

"Salazar contacted me. Someone is trying to breach the wards!"

Snape looked at him incredulously, obviously not believing or understanding, actually, but McGonagall took one look at his face and paled dramatically.

She looked like she was going to speak, but a painful throb exploded in his head, bringing him to his knees. He could hear Niki's loud exclamation too, meaning only one thing.

The wards were beginning to fail.

He quickly staggered to his feet, ignoring the worried looks that the two professors were giving him. He turned towards the Lady Smith and caught her eye, her nodding along to their non-verbal communication.

He strode out of the silencing barrier, where other students and professors were looking at him and Niki in worry and a lot of confusion. He and she quickly made it to Hermione, who along with an almost panicked Theo was looking on nervously. Another agonizing throb nearly put him down, making him want to throw up at the nausea that it caused him.

Niki bore it better, bringing out her wand and putting up and even more powerful silencing barrier than McGonagall had. She turned towards me, and I could see the strain of the pain and magic in her eyes, which told me to get on with it.

He knelt down to Hermione's level, looking her in the eye with as much seriousness as he could. The didn't have time for subtle encouragement anymore, this was life or death.

He spoke slightly harshly, but more urgently, which she noticed and paid that much more attention. "Hermione, I'm going to do something extremely risky, okay? I need you to let me do this, or we'll be in big trouble." She swallowed nervously.

Another throb nearly made him pass out it was so strong. He needed to do this now!

"Look into my eyes, and don't fight anything you feel okay? Let it come to you."

She looked like she was about to say something, but he didn't give her a chance.

"Legilimens!"

He felt the connection form immediately, something that he had been perfecting with Niki when he had the chance. However, instead of reading her memories, he forced some of his own down the connection for her to see. The heirs, the Dagworth-Grangers, he and Niki talking, the ceremony at Gringotts.

Her ancestry.

Breaking the connection when another strong throb came, he looked into her slightly glazed eyes, but he felt deeper with his magic, looking for the connection he knew would be there if this had worked.

Nothing, he could feel nothing, and he was about to curse at his wast of time when he felt it.

Small, humming, the connection to the blue-bronze founder formed statically inside her resevoir, making him sag with relief before collecting himself.

Her eyes sharpened far more than he had ever seen them, the thoughts behind hazel working at a speed he would never be able to match. She looked at him once, then Niki, before nodding.

There was a loud cracking in the air, followed by the screams of the students and the cries from Niki and Harry, only slightly from Hermione with her relatively weak bond, meaning she couldn't feel the burning torture that the crack in the wards caused the other two.

Willing themselves to fight the pain, all three began focusing on letting out the familial magics of the founders, letting them pool together as they all connected hands. The magic reacted instinctively to the threat to the school and its heirs, pulling its own portion of the Fouders family magics into the pot before all three heirs pushed with strength none of them knew they had. There was a moment, before they could all feel the crack in the wards meld itself closed, strengthening the whole scheme exponentially.

The others in the hall noticed when the walls of Hogwarts began to faintly glow, a humming noise coming from all directions in a haunting tune.

Hogwarts was singing.

McGonagall and Snape, the only ones slightly in-the-know, watched the three in shock, and no small amount of awe.

This was the strength of the founder, the four greatest Sorcerers and Sorceresses that had ever lived.

It all ended as it started, making the confusion in the hall rise that much higher. Harry, Niki, and Hermione were all panting heavily as the force of what they had to do hit them entirely, exhaustion mounting in all three. They each shared proud looks, small smiles for their accomplishment, when they heard a small noise.

Theodore Nott and Zacharias Smith were both watching them with wide eyes.

All three had the same thought run through their mind at that moment. ' _Shite'_


End file.
